#no previews we die like men

[cheeriecherrymain]

The Alchemist [Preview] [Viktor x Reader]

Viktor x Reader (SFW)

(Fic Preview)

For as long as you can remember, you’d been interested in making potions. As a child, you’d not had the resources you’d needed to really make anything of value - in fact, you distinctly remember your mother scolding you day in and day out for making an utter mess of the bathroom, and wasting all her nice soaps. You had been frustrated back then, to have so much creativity and passion, and no way to express it.

It only worsened as you grew.

By age ten you’d moved on from mixing soaps together, at first to your mother’s relief. But when she realized you’d been storing miscellaneous gunk you’d collected from the runoffs? In jars? Under your bed? Oh, she gave you an earful.

She finally caved when you were eleven, working together with your uncles to find an old alchemy set for your birthday. Your cousins had chipped in and bought an apothecary’s textbook to go with it, as well.

You’d been over the moon with the gift, and there was not a day afterwards where you couldn’t be found tinkering away at your workstation.

Then, tragedy struck.

At the ripe age of fourteen, you were orphaned.

You knew you didn’t have time to grieve over your losses - your home would be repossessed as soon as the word of your parents’ deaths spread. Everything you knew, everything you loved. It would all be gone.

So you packed up your alchemy set with great haste, making sure to carefully wrap all your bottles and beakers before you stuffed them into a backpack. You weren’t able to take all of your ingredients -little tidbits of plants and minerals that you’d collected over the years- but you squirreled away what you were able to.

And you left.

From then on, you were on your own - taking up residence in a small, hidden cave, away from nosey people and prying eyes. The stone was uncomfortable at first, but eventually you turned the little nook into your new home. You found pieces and parts to make a small generator, powerful enough to make a few strings of lights glow, and you repurposed old scraps you’d salvaged into shelves.

It became your apothecary.

You started selling potions so you could afford food - anything you could create, you could profit off of. Tinctures to help heal wounds, pastes to ease sore muscles, drops to help with nausea, and oils to help with sickness. Once people realized that your potions worked, word of you spread like wildfire. A young girl who could cure any ailment, known only as The Alchemist.

You worked tirelessly to help those who came to you in need, spending many sleepless nights hunkered over your desk, trying to find more solutions for more problems that more and more patrons were showing up with.

By age fifteen, you were frustrated, exhausted, and on the verge of crying. Your single textbook was worn and damp after being in a cave for a year, and it was getting harder to read from. You didn’t need to consult it for most of your usual brews, but as demand for your services grew, and as your customers asked for more and more outlandish things, you found yourself flipping through the pages on a nightly basis, searching for any section of information you’d yet to learn.

That was how Viktor found you, on one fateful evening.

You’d been so caught up in your book that you hadn’t heard the knocking on your little makeshift door; nor did you hear the squeak of hinges or the sound of a quiet voice calling out in greeting.

Only when he accidentally casts an ominous shadow over you, do you realize you’re no longer alone.

You nearly deafen yourself with how loudly you shriek, prompting your visitor to stumble back a couple steps. It’s chaos from there - he trips over the tiny generator you’d made and falls backwards, knocking the back of his head on the solid rock floor. The lights flicker a couple times before you’re cast into total darkness, and then the world is silent.

It takes a couple of seconds for you to collect yourself and realize what just happened, gradually slowing your breathing back to a normal pace. 

You’re no stranger to losing your lighting, so thankfully you’re more than prepared for such a situation. You fumble around for a few moments before finding a pair of bottles on your shelves - purposefully made in distinctive shapes, so you’d be able to find them without your sight.

You dump the liquids together into a larger bottle, corking the spout before vigorously shaking it. You’ve never been particularly fond of the eerie green glow that the combination creates, but it throws a hell of a lot of light considering it’s such a simple mixture.

You set the bottle on the edge of your desk, and you peer around the cave.

The generator seems relatively okay, and you’re certain that the sudden impact only caused it to stall…but what you’re more concerned about is your guest, who is sprawled out on the floor by the entrance, unmoving.

Panic blooms in your chest, and you skitter over to him to kneel down at his side.

“Hey,” you whisper, waving your hand in front of his face. He unsurprisingly says nothing, but your shoulders sag in relief when you can feel his breath warm against your palm. 

“Well,” you mumble, “at least you’re not dead.” And then you scoop him up to move him over to your bed. It’s nothing fancy - a lumpy mattress made out of straw and scrap fabric, but it’s better than sleeping on the floor.

The boy whines a little bit when you move him, but otherwise doesn’t show any signs of consciousness. It concerns you a little bit, and for a brief moment you wonder if you should perhaps fetch a doctor. Sure, your potions were meant to aid ailments of variety, but you were by no means a specialist on the body. What if he cracked his skull? Or his spine? What if he had a horrible brain injury and would never wake up again?

You’re fairly certain that no amount of ointment would fix that.

But the more you look at him, the more you realize that he wouldn’t be able to afford a decent doctor. His clothes are tattered and mismatched, much like yours, and he’s startlingly thin. You were fortunate enough to have the money to support your dietary needs, giving your body several lovely pouches of fat. But this kid?

He looks as though he might snap in half.

He’s shorter than you by a couple inches, and perhaps a year or two your junior, if you were to guess, but you couldn’t be certain - with such chronic starvation among the children in the undercity, most had their growth stunted. Depending on the boy’s home life, he could very well be older than you.

With a sigh, you realize that you have no way of figuring out who he is, or where he’s from. You can only guess that he’s dirt poor based on the way he looks, and with such an obvious fact in mind, you know you can’t send for help. You can’t risk going into debt, and you definitely don’t want to stick it on him.

You’re just going to have to take care of him yourself, and hope he wakes up.

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 4. Gooey

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact!)

Chapter Preview: "Why did you do that?" you blurt out, turning to face him. Joel, seemingly unfazed, keeps his eyes on the road. "Do what?" "I don't need you defending my honor against Tess. She already dislikes me, and now it's all awkward-" "She doesn't hate you-" "...but clearly I have a target on my back now that I'm involved with my boss!" You keep your eyes downcast, attempting to stifle a sob. "You didn't need to cause a scene." Joel turns his head at that, his expression softening as he observes your distress, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sugar-" "It's easy for you, you know? To throw the fact that you're the boss around and have this 'I can do what I want' attitude with whoever you please. But I could still lose my job! I need this job, Joel. I-" "No, Sugar. Shit, I-" He opens his mouth, then closes it, appearing unsure of how to respond to your sudden outburst. Joel looks genuinely troubled, his frown mirroring yours. "I'm disposable, Joel," you continue, refusing to meet his gaze. "You wouldn't understand where I'm coming from."

Chapter Warnings & Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Daddy Kink, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Overstimulation, Squirting, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, DD/lg (kinda? they're both into it), Virgin Reader, Loss of Virginity, PIV Sex (finally!!!!), Breeding Kink, No beta we die like men!

Word Count: 6.4K

Chapter Title Inspo/Vibe: 'Gooey' by Glass Animals

"What's up with you and Sugar?"

Sarah casually strolls over to Joel's desk, perching her hip on the edge as she hands him a cup of coffee. "Maria said she saw the two of you at the mall yesterday," peering over him as he nervously takes a sip of his coffee, "... during working hours. She said you guys seemed mighty close and all, I guess she wasn't sick like Tess said?"

Joel chokes mid-sip, coughing out the hot coffee as Sarah smirks at him.

"So it's true, then?"

"I guess I can't hide anything from you, baby girl," Joel replies in between coughs. "Should have known I can't get anything past you."

"Well, I made a wild guess you were into her, being that I heard you singing 'Pour Some Sugar On Me" in the shower the other day.

"It was being played on the radio, can't control what they decide to play, you know?" he stops, taking a deep breath. "... besides, everyone loves Def Leppard," he mumbles under his breath.

Sarah gives him a knowing glance as she makes herself comfortable on the chair in front of him. "Dad, the radio stations don't put music on repeat." She fiddles with the sleeves of her sweater absentmindedly, her face deep in thought. "It wouldn't be a bad thing, you know? You and Sugar. She seems like a very sweet girl. Kind of shy, but I like her."

Joel arches an eyebrow. "Do you now?"

She shrugs. "I mean, she is kind of young, but age is just a number, right? It's not like she's in her 20s. Besides, Ellie is obsessed with her. She's always at her office, picking her brain about her thoughts on 80s music. She's a good influence on her."

Joel nods. "Ellie- I worry about her sometimes. Lord knows that I try to do right by her, adopting her and all that. Sometimes I think she needs-"

"... a feminine touch?"

"Something like that." Joel smiles to himself, his eyes still locked on his iPad as he continues his redline revisions to be sent off to the draftsmen. "I think her being surrounded by Tommy and I makes her too-"

"Feral?" Sarah quips, chuckling. "Rough around the edges? Aggressive? It comes with the territory, I guess, with no mother figure around, you know?" she picks a hangnail. "Tommy said that she nearly castrated a client on the job site the other day for asking her out on a date."

"That jerk was asking for it." Joel retorts, his back stiffening. "You adjusted well enough without a mother."

Sarah sighs. "It doesn't mean it was easy, though. It would have been nice, you know? There's just things that I can't talk to a guy about, as much as you tried to be there for me."

"This thing with Sugar, It's new - but I know what I feel for her."

Sarah nods. "You don't need to give me all the details. I trust you, and if she's someone you want to pursue, I won't be mad about it, if that's what you're thinking. Like I said, she's a nice girl."

"She's... fuck, Sarah, she's amazing. She takes my breath away, every time she smiles at me. Fuck. I feel like a teenager, being around her. I don't know what it is, but I always want to be around her." Joel chuckles, smiling at Sarah. "I'm crazy about her."

"Well, you must be if you're out here buying Teslas like you would coffee."

Joel leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh? I wasn't aware that she bought a new car."

Sarah crosses her arms, a skeptical look in her eyes. "Dad, you do realize I handle HR, right? I know what everyone's making. I find it hard to believe she's casually splurging on a Tesla, especially a Model X." She shrugs, giving her father one last look as she heads towards the door. "I know it's tempting, wanting to spoil her. You worked for it, you know? To get where you're at now, but I have a feeling Sugar doesn't care about all of that, just like how Ellie and I don't care about that. Money comes and goes. It's what's inside that chest of yours that matters at the end of the day, ok?"

Joel smiles at Sarah once more as she walks out the door. "I love you too, baby girl."

Joel opens his messenger app, smiling at his earlier conversation with Sarah.

[Hey Sugar, you busy?] I'm about to head into a meeting with Tess, what's up? [Just wanted to see if you wanted to get some lunch?] I can't. Tess is pissed that I was out yesterday. I think this meeting is going to run past lunch. Rain check? [.....] Joel?

"Tess, what are you doing?" Joel demands, walking into Tess' office without knocking.

"Well hello to you, too Joel."

Joel stands at the door, his hands on his hips. "Sugar told me that she's going to be working through lunch with you-"

Tess scoffs, placing both arms on her desk. "Well, if the two of you didn't decide to fuck off work yesterday, maybe she wouldn't have to work past lunch."

"Sugar was sick. I had to do shit back at the house-"

"So you didn't go to the mall together yesterday?"

"It was her birthday, we just so happened to run into each other-"

Tess rolls her eyes at that. "I don't care what the fuck you guys do on your own time, but don't fuck around on my time!" she spits, pointing a finger at Joel. "Don't try to bullshit a bullshitter, Joel. Maria saw you guys. That girl of yours is lucky I didn't ask her for a doctor's note!  

Joel pinches his forehead. "Tess-"

She shakes her head. "What are you doing, Joel? Have you lost your fucking mind? We have a business to run, YOUR business! Time doesn't stop just because you decided that you want to act like a fucking teenager, running around like you have no responsibilities! People depend on you to not fuck around!"  

Meanwhile, you hear the shouting match between Joel and Tess from your office, your head in your hands as you listen to the both of them bicker about the stunt that you and Joel pulled yesterday. You sigh, knowing that you told Joel that you had a bad feeling about blowing off work.  

"Never a dull moment at Miller Construction, huh?" Frank leans casually against your doorway, offering a knowing wink. "Nice ride, by the way. Makes me wonder if I picked the wrong man, huh?"

"Frank, cut it out. You were supposed to be at the showroom ten minutes ago," the gruff voice of the head civil engineer interjects, rolling his eyes as he strides through the hallway, delivering you a brief nod. "Sugar, Happy Belated Birthday. Hope you're feeling better."

"Thanks, Bill," you reply with a hint of meekness.

"Frank! Let's go," he shouts impatiently, already at the front door.

"Well, as much as I'd love to stick around for the theatrics of our esteemed leaders... keep me posted, okay? I want a play-by-play! Nice dress, by the way. Celine?"

"Uh-"

"Frank!"

"I'm COMING! Geez, you'd think after 15 years of marriage, it gets easier, right?" he shrugs. "Well, Sugar, it's been a pleasure." He winces as Tess' shrill voice echoes in the distance. "Go console Joel before he pops a vessel; I think someone might just call the police this time!"

You nod absentmindedly, offering him a small smile. "Sure thing," you reply, the weariness evident in your voice.

It was a lot easier when you worked at Geek Squad. Sure, you got paid almost close to nothing dealing with irate customers for eight hours, answering mundane questions - 

Did you try to restart the computer?

Did you make sure that the monitor was plugged in?

Sure, I can wait for your granddaughter to come home to help you…

It was soul-sucking, but it was easy. Easier, compared to dealing with someone like Tess. Tess took no shit - no excuses, no bullshit. She didn’t care if you had a dentist appointment and couldn’t schedule it on the weekend. She didn’t care if you needed a mental health day. Your time was her time, and you found that out the hard way real quick… and now she knew. Knew that you blew off work and knowing Tess, she probably knew that Joel finger fucked you into oblivion in the Neiman Marcus dressing room. You can't help but have respect for her, a woman walking amongst the men in an unforgiving industry. If there was anyone who had balls of steel, it would be Tess. 

"Joel, why can't you just wait to fuck her after work like a responsible adult?!" She shouts, the tell-tell sound of something being thrown against the wall echoing through the hall. You flinch, sinking into your seat further as you groan in embarrassment.  

"Hey!" you hear the other Miller brother yell from the other end of the hallway, his hurried steps passing through as he makes his way toward the absolute meltdown happening between Joel and Tess. "What the hell is going on? The entire fucking building can hear the both of you! What the fuck?!"

"Tess is being a bully, telling people they have to work through their lunch-"

"Your brother here is throwing a fucking hissy fit accusing me of bullying his little girlfriend - I told you hiring her was a bad fucking idea!"

"YOU LEAVE HER OUT OF THIS!" Joel shouts, the sound of his fist hitting the hollow of the door. "You keep her out of your fucking mouth, Tess!"

"Joel," you hear Tommy, his voice lowered in a shoddy attempt to placate his brother. "Let's just calm the fuck down, okay? you guys are scaring the engineers-"

"OH FUCK THE ENGINEERS, TOMMY," Tess screams, "You tell your brother to stop playing favorites and fucking around with THE HELP!"

"Tess," Tommy stammers, "I know you're upset, but you're being out of line right now, let's just take a moment to calm-"

"Oh fuck off, Tommy! you're here always defending your brother when he's just fine screwing around, fucking us over! why don't you grow a pair-"

"Tess," Joels cuts her off, his voice laced with his building anger. "I know you think that you run the show, but it is still my company, that I run. You don't go and bully everyone just because you think you can. You may call the shots, but you still report to me. Denying an employee lunch is an HR violation! Should I call Sarah in here too? Slap the fucking employee handbook on your desk and clear the air? Your meeting with Sugar can wait until after lunch, do I make myself clear??"

You don't realize you're holding your breath until-

"DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

You hear Tess curse, and you can imagine her face, clear as day, glaring at Joel, the both of them not wanting to back down.  

"Crystal."

You hear the slamming of a door, followed by the heavy-footed steps of Joel as he makes his way back to his office.

You sit in a daze, looking off into space, trying to process what just happened. You're only broken off from your thoughts by the unmistakable sound of your messenger, its distinctive ping! jolting you back to the present.

[So, lunch?]

"So, what cravings does my Sugar have today?" Joel murmurs, gently taking your hand as he navigates out of the parking lot.

"Why did you do that?" you blurt out, turning to face him.

Joel, seemingly unfazed, keeps his eyes on the road. "Do what?"

"I don't need you defending my honor against Tess. She already dislikes me, and now it's all awkward-"

"She doesn't hate you-"

"...but clearly I have a target on my back now that I'm involved with my boss!" You keep your eyes downcast, attempting to stifle a sob. "You didn't need to cause a scene."

Joel turns his head at that, his expression softening as he observes your distress, seemingly at a loss for words. "Sugar-"

"It's easy for you, you know? To throw the fact that you're the boss around and have this 'I can do what I want' attitude with whoever you please. But I could still lose my job! I need this job, Joel. I-"

"No, Sugar. Shit, I-" He opens his mouth, then closes it, appearing unsure of how to respond to your sudden outburst. Joel looks genuinely troubled, his frown mirroring yours.

"I'm disposable, Joel," you continue, refusing to meet his gaze. "You wouldn't understand where I'm coming from."

"I wouldn't let her do that, baby."

"Just because you like me doesn't mean I'm immune, Joel."

“You do excellent work, Sugar. If there’s anyone to blame for what happened yesterday, it’s me, alright? Tess’ issue is with me, not you." He heads into town, pulling over to a metered parking spot in front of a few storefronts. He cuts the ignition, staring into the distance as he takes a few deep breaths. "You're wrong, baby," he says finally, turning towards you. He gives you a small smile, "I don't like you."

You feel your expression shift into something resembling pain as Joel hurriedly reaches for your hand, gently taking it into his.

"I love you, Sugar," he breathes, "I've been in love with you, all this time."

"Joel, you don't need to say this just to make me feel better."

Joel shakes his head, unbuckling his seatbelt to lean towards you, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. "Are you saying I'm a liar?"

A tear rolls down your cheek. "No one has ever-"

"Then let me try to show you just how much I do, baby."

"What if I'm bad at it? Bad at loving you?"

Joel looks deep into your eyes, his gaze tender and unwavering. "There's no such thing as being bad at loving, Sugar. Love is about understanding, patience, and growing together. We'll figure it out, one step at a time."

He wipes away the tear from your cheek with his thumb and offers you a reassuring smile. "I'm not expecting perfection, just you, baby girl. That's all I've ever wanted."

"What if I'm not ready to say it back just yet?"

"I'll take whatever you're willing to give me", he smiles. "Just let me love you, okay?"

Later that day, you finally muster up the courage to make the short journey down the hall for your meeting with Tess. You would be lying if you said you weren't five seconds away from shitting your pants, that's just the effect Tess has on everyone in the office.   

"Tess?" you knock on her door, clearing your throat and hoping she doesn't catch the slight tremor in your voice. You attempt to compose yourself, standing a bit taller as you wait for her reply with bated breath.

"Come in!"

You hesitantly shuffle in, feeling like a moron standing before her in your new dress, feeling like she can see right through you. "Look, about earlier-"

Tess glances at you as if you've suddenly sprouted another head. "Why don't you just have a seat, and we can get this over with."

You stand in your spot timidly, shifting on your feet. "Okay," you say, settling into the seat across from her and placing your MacBook on her desk. "Where did you want to start?"

"Let's go over the employee reports."

"Okay, well," you begin, nervously pushing your hair behind your ear as you load up your reports, keeping your eyes locked onto your screen as you feel the weight of Tess' gaze on you. It's unnerving, you think to yourself. "There haven't been any new issues; everyone seems to be on task, and productivity has been steady, if not increasing-"

"Do you want a drink?" Tess interrupts suddenly, the sound of a drawer opening as she pulls out a bottle of whiskey. "It was your birthday yesterday, right? Why don't we take the edge off?"

"Uh," you glance at the time on your computer screen. 4:05. 55 minutes before the end of the day. You eye her warily. "We still have an hour before... we still have an hour before the end of the day," you cautiously mention, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Tess pours two glasses of whiskey, sliding one towards you. "A little celebration won't hurt. Besides, it's been a day."

You hesitate for a moment before accepting the glass, the cool surface feeling unfamiliar in your hand. "To what, exactly?"

Tess smirks, raising her glass. "To getting through the day, and to not making a big deal out of things that don't matter. To burying the hatchet. To your birthday," she adds. She leans towards you, her gaze heavy on yours. "Shall we?"

"Sure," you say, not one to shy away from a challenge. "What the hell."

It's not an hour later you find the both of you drunk off your asses.

"You know, I can see it," Tess says, eyeing you as she leans back in her desk chair. "Why Joel is so taken with you? You're quite a woman."

"Oh?"

"It takes one strong woman to be able to see the kind of illicit porn the Miller brothers watch and not bat an eye at it. Tell me, what has our leader been into lately?"

You try to stifle a giggle, attempting to hide a blush. "Well, he usually watches a lot of secretary stuff, but lately-"

"Let me take a wild guess," Tess says as she takes a swig out of the bottle, shot glasses long abandoned. "Sweet little housewife porn?"

"Not quite."

Her eyebrow raises curiously. "Worse than that?"

"Well, there's been an uptick of... breeding porn?" you blush furiously. "it's a lot."

Tess bursts into a fit of laughter, clutching her middle, all sense of professionalism out the window. "I think he's trying to tell you something!"

"What do you mean?" you ask, meeting her giggles. "What is breeding porn anyway?"

Tess stares at you. "Really Sugar? It means he wants to fuck a baby into you!"

You scratch the back of your head, clearly at a loss. "I-"

"The sex must be great," she quips. "I don't think that man has been intimate with anyone for the last ten years." She leans over toward you. "He has to make up for lost time," she whispers, giving you a wink.

"Yeah", you stammer, "It's great."

"Well, when you say it like that, maybe the old man lost his touch."

"Tess, can I level with you? I... I'm a virgin. I'm a 36-year-old virgin. Does that change how you see me?"

"Well, it depends. Is it by choice?"

You shrug, a hiccup escaping from your body. "I'm not entirely sure. Maybe it's a mix of both. Like I'm defective."

"Lay it on me," she looks around your surroundings, making sure that the door is closed. "This is a safe space... most of the time." She gives you a pointed look.  

"I guess... I don't know how to put myself out there. My parents, well, my dad- he was strict. One of those "You're not allowed to date until you're 80" kind of dads." You take another sip of whiskey, scrunching your face as it burns down your throat. "I... tried to date in college, but it never went past a first date. There was a lot of ghosting. It gave me a complex, you know? Who wants to date a nobody who looks like me? and it's so fucking pathetic, you know? to be the unwanted one. All of my friends, well, they're married and have kids, and I'm just that token single friend they take pity on because I will always be unlucky in love."

"I think that's a load of bull," Tess scoffs, arms crossed.

"Do you know what I think? You dealt with too many boys and not enough men." She drinks from the bottle once more, reclining further into her seat as she places her ankles on the edge of the desk. "Do you wanna know what I see in front of me? I see a girl who worked her ass off getting her masters, who doesn't depend on mommy and daddy to fund her lifestyle - yes," she raises a finger, interrupting you from replying. "I know who your parents are. You're hyper-independent, and you don't like handouts. Boys don't want a woman who doesn't need them, they don't want a fucking challenge. Do you know who does love a challenge? Men. Men like Joel."

Tess leans in, a sly grin playing on her lips. "Joel, now there's a man who appreciates someone like you. Someone who doesn't need saving, who's got her own game going. Boys might be intimidated, but men, well, they see a partner, not a project."

She takes another swig, the bottle now almost empty. "You don't want to waste your time on those boys playing grown-up. Trust me, been there, done that. Men bring something different to the table. They value independence, they crave a challenge. It's a whole different ball game. Think about it, Sugar. Besides," she laughs to herself, shaking her head. "I've never seen Joel so whipped for pussy in the 20 years that I've known him. You got him eating in the palm of your hand... and the best thing about it? you didn't even have to try. What woman can say that she managed to bag a millionaire without having to put out? Now that's power."

"What's this?" Joel asks suddenly, his eyes narrowing at the two of you as he hovers over the doorway. If he knocked, the two of you were too drunk to notice. "Tess? Care to share why Sugar can barely sit straight?"

Tess throws her hands up in surrender, a faint chuckle out of her lips. "What does it look like? We're just having a little birthday drink. I'd offer you a drink," she picks up the empty whiskey bottle, "but it looks like we beat you to it."

"Joel!" you beam at him, spinning around in your seat, your face flushed from your conversation with Tess. "Just the man we were talking about!"

"Sugar, are you feeling ok?" he gives you a small smile, trying to hide his concern.

"I'm just peachy, thanks for asking!" you sway in your seat, grabbing onto the armrest to steady yourself. "Tess and I were just discussing how you haven't had-"

"Just going over productivity metrics" Tess cuts you off, clearing her throat as she tries to steady herself, wincing. "I offered her a drink to apologize for my behavior earlier. We got a little carried away-" She straightens herself, motioning towards you. "I think you should give her a ride home, make sure she doesn't end up in the next state over because she drunkenly typed in the wrong address in the Tesla."

"Home sounds good," you murmur under your breath, your eyes closed.

Joel lets out an exasperated sigh, moving towards your slouched figure. "Okay Sugar," he whispers, his hands gently placed on your shoulders to steady you. "Do you think you can walk?"

"Maybe?" you hiccup, your body feeling like lead is coursing through your veins as you attempt to meet his concerned eyes. "Are you going to take me home? I don't think I can drive, everything is so fuzzy..."

If you weren't drunk off of your ass, you might have sensed the sudden lift from your seat, Joel carrying you effortlessly with a stern look aimed at Tess. "I appreciate the effort to make amends, Tess, but maybe find a different approach other than getting the employees drunk." He adjusts you so your head rests on his shoulder, preventing any potential dizziness.

She shrugs, a smirk forming at Joel as he quietly tries to settle you. "What can I say? Whiskey cures all."

"Goodnight, Tess," Joel grumbles, adjusting his hold as he carries you towards the parking lot.

Joel carefully situates you in the passenger seat of his truck, securing your seatbelt and making sure your head rests comfortably, sighing as he takes in your inebriated state. He places a chaste kiss on your forehead, offering you a reassuring smile. "I'm going to get your stuff back in the office, just close your eyes, okay?" he whispers, giving you one last glance before closing the door.

"I don't want to head home tonight. Can I crash at your place, Joel?" you murmur, eyelids too heavy to keep open. You swear you hear Joel reply something in return, but the alcohol in your system is finally starting to settle deep within your bones, lulling you into a deep sleep.

You don't remember much after that.

When you finally stir, it's dark. Instead of the familiar hum of Joel's truck, warmth envelops you, an arm securely around your middle. Joel snores softly.

"Joel?" you call out in the dark, your eyes trying to adjust to the lack of light. "Where am I?"

"Hush, baby, go back to sleep. It's still early," he mumbles, tightening the arm around you. You feel him gently press a kiss on your head. "Sleep, my little love, we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," you reply, the smoothness of his voice lulling you back to sleep.  

"I love you, Joel." you think you say in your sleep. You don't care at this point, there's no sense of hiding it.

You swear you feel the ghost of his smile in response.

The next time you wake, the sunlight is pouring into the depths of Joel's bedroom, casting a hazy light, the air in the room still cold against your bare skin. Your eyes open wider at the realization that you're no longer in your work clothes. You blush at the thought of Joel undressing you, his hungry gaze on your bare body as he redresses you in something comfortable, embarrassed at the fact that you were too drunk to remember. You reluctantly open your eyes, blinking away the haze from a night of heavy drinking, trying to stifle a groan, not wanting to wake Joel.

You managed to lay halfway on top of him this time, your face buried in the crook of his neck. One of his hands is splayed against the expanse of your back, his leg slotted in between your thighs. You swear if you hitched your leg higher you would feel the firmness of his cock, already at half mast beneath the fabric of his boxers. You gaze at it in silent wonder, the realization that he's quite large - larger than the ones you see when you allow yourself to watch porn yourself.  

You find yourself grinding against his thigh, the sensation feeling like molten lava coursing through your veins. You don’t realize what you’re doing until the hand on your back starts to move, motioning your body to move back and forth as you continue to rub your clit against the hardness of his leg. "Fuck baby, are you close? You're shaking." he says roughly, pulling you into a kiss.  

"Joel, I saw what kind of porn you've been watching lately."

Joel stiffens at that, his hand still. "I'm beginning to think I can't hide shit from anyone," he laughs. "I guess I'm that transparent."

"Are you embarrassed?" you chuckle. "You can tell me, you know. Tess told me it's obvious that you want to fuck a baby-"

Joel groans. "Let's not talk about Tess right now. Besides- I know that you're a virgin, Sugar. I want your first time to be special, do it the right way. Let me help you ease into it-"

"Wasn't that what yesterday was about?" you blush, burying your face into his neck. "What if I'm ready now?"

"... are you sure, Sugar?" he asks hesitantly, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. "Don't want to pressure you into something you're not ready for."

"I don't want anyone else but you, Joel."

"You don't know how much I ache for you," he murmurs against your skin, placing wet open-mouthed kisses on your sternum, his hands slowly creeping up your shirt, his fingers grabbing onto the hem. "Can I, baby?" he asks, meeting your gaze as he kisses your skin. You give him a silent nod, lifting yourself slightly as he gently pulls his shirt off of your body, his eyes roaming on the slopes of your breasts. "Such perfect fucking tits, baby. Are they just for me?" he asks, the tip of his tongue flicking your nipple, his hand grasping the other.  

"Yes Joel, just for you," you breathe. His hands drift lower towards your aching cunt. "Put a baby into me, Joel. I want it."

"Fuck," he shouts, his hands grabbing your ass, shifting your body to be at the center of his king-sized bed. "You shouldn't say those things to me, I might just do it," he replies, settling himself in between your thighs. He cants his erection against your cunt, capturing your lips for a bruising kiss. "Can you feel just how much I ache for you?" His hand finds your core once more, his thumb pressing on your clit.  

Oh.

Your hands find his, pushing it onto your clit harder, the added pressure making you arch your back, your chest pressing onto his. His mouth finds your breasts once more, his tongue eagerly lapping and sucking at your pebbled nipples. "Such beautiful tits, Sugar. It'll get more beautiful when they get bigger and full of milk for my baby."  

He continues to worship your tits for a while, the pleasure that he's pulling from you making you dizzy with want, your pussy clenching onto nothing as he continues to grind against you. "Fuck Joel!" you cry out, your body chasing your orgasm, your chest too sensitive from his ministrations.  

"Tell me what you want, baby. What do you need?"

"I need your cock, daddy. I feel so fucking empty-"

Joel gives your breasts one final suck, the pop echoing throughout the vastness of his room. "I have to make you come first, baby. You're not ready for my cock yet." He slides a finger between your folds, his thumb adding more pressure onto your clit. Joel shifts his body down, pressing kisses down your torso as he makes his way to the waistband of your panties, his fingers hooking into the elastic, pulling them down. He hooks his arms under your thighs, pulling you to the edge of his bed, spreading you wider as you present yourself to him.

"Baby," he groans like he's in pain. He parts your slicked folds with his finger, coating it with your wetness. You jump as he flicks your clit, pinching it for good measure. "I'm beginning to think you're aching for me too, Sugar." You moan deeply, your body thrashing between the sheets, your body begging for more.  

"Don't fucking tease me, Joel," you pant. "I need you-"

He slaps your pussy harshly. "You'll take what I give you, little girl. Do I need to teach you how to be patient? We skipped dinner last night, you gonna deny Daddy of his meal?"

"No, Daddy. Please-"

"Are you gonna be a good little girl and let Daddy take care of you? Let me taste your sweet pussy?" he adds a second finger against your folds, teasing your entrance as you gasp and throw your head back.

"Yes," you plead. "Yes, yes, yes, take what you want-"

You can hardly breathe as Joel tugs your legs over his shoulders, angling your hips. You swear you feel your heart beating through your ears, your entire body feeling like it's on fire. Joel gives you one last smirk as he lowers his face to your cunt.  

You swear you implode the moment his mouth comes in contact with your clit.  

His tongue is lapping at your slick, the tip flicking your aching nub, languidly kissing your slit, taking his time. He's devouring you like he's been starved for years, getting hungrier and more desperate as you swear you can feel the bed shake, his dick grinding down on the mattress. He harshly grabs the globes of your ass cheeks, slipping his tongue at your entrance, your entire body flailing on the bed from overstimulation.  

He reaches for your hand and places it on his head, your fingers threading through his curls. "Hold on to me, Sugar. Don't be gentle," he says against your pussy, groaning as you pull so hard you swear you might just pull it out of his scalp. You begin to rock your hips against his face, the tip of his nose grazing against your clit, the both of you finding a rhythm as you chase your impending orgasm. You're close. So close.

"Come for me, baby. Fucking soak my face-" Joel begs, taking your clit in his teeth. Tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes, your body trembling and shaking and thrashing as he continues to consume you.  

"Joel!" you cry, "It's too much, I can't-" You swear your vision blacks out as you suddenly feel a gush of slick being released out of you, soaking Joel's face and the sheets beneath you. You try to meet his gaze, his pupils blown black, his eyes wide.  

"That's a good fucking girl!" he shouts, lapping you up completely, drinking from your pussy. He suddenly rises to his feet, his hands still gripping your thighs, lifting your ass higher as he lines his cock to your entrance.  

"Are you sure you want this?" he asks, probing the tip at your entrance. "Once I start I won't be able to stop. Is this something you want? I need to hear you say it."

"I want it, Joel. I want you."

"Do you want me to wear a condom?"

You look at him, shaking your head. "I thought you said you wanted to fuck a baby into me. I'm not on anything and you would be my first-"

Joel wraps your thighs around his waist, leaning towards you as he kisses you, long and deep. "I love you, Sugar... and I know you love me," He inches his tip into your entrance slowly, giving you shallow thrusts. "I'll give you everything-" he groans as he slowly fills you to the hilt, stopping his thrusts as he allows you to adjust to his length.  

It's a lot. Too long and too thick and you're gripping onto him, gripping onto him like a vice. You gasp at the intrusion, the pinch so sharp you close your eyes in pain, clutching at Joel, digging your nails harshly against his skin.  

"I need you to relax, Sugar," Joel says, his voice strained. "What do you need? I don't want to hurt you."

You shake your head. "Just... talk to me. Distract me." You take a deep breath. "When did you know? Know that you loved me?"

The corner of his mouth twitches, a small smile on his face as he starts to slowly push in and out of you. "Do you remember the day that you first yelled at me? The day when I was working when it was storming out-"

"The day we had a tornado watch?" you pant, taking another deep breath as he continues to thrust into you, slow and deep. "You were an absolute moron, risking your life for some bullshit deadline my dad held over your head-" you gasp, your hips canting towards as you meet him thrust for thrust. "No amount of money is worth risking your life-"

"I couldn't bear seeing you cry, begging me to come down the roof," he groans, grabbing onto your hip as he thrusts deeper into you. "No one besides my family has shown me such care for my well-being, not even Sarah's mom, forcing me to work hell or high water... fuck.  You feel so fucking good baby, I don't think I can last-" he starts to thrust into you in earnest, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the room.

It's obscene.

"You practically jumped onto me the moment I came down, gripping onto me like a life raft, fuck... feeling you in my arms, the tears running down your face-" he's pounding into you now, both of his hands gripping onto your hips harshly as he fucks you into the mattress. "I was fucking gone for you, baby," he pants. "I knew I loved you then. Knew I had to make you mine, no matter what it took... Fuck." Joel closes his eyes, throwing his head back as he fucks into you deeper, so deep you can't think straight, your second orgasm building. His chest is heaving as he opens his eyes once more, his face full of love and adoration.  

You never thought you would feel what belonging felt like, what home would feel like.

Seeing him look at you in wonder, like you hung the stars in the sky at night yourself...

You don't realize you're both crying, the tears from Joel's eyes running down his face as he sets a brutal pace, angling your hips higher as he plows into you.  

"I want to give you a family, baby. I want you to stay, forever."

"Then don't let me go, Joel. Don't leave me-" you gasp, your face wrought with tears. "I love you, Joel. So much."

"I won't," he breathes, leaning over you as he kisses you furiously, his hips snapping into you. "You're so close, baby, I can feel you gripping me so tight, I'm going to fill you up so good, give you a fucking baby, keep you in this house I built for you, never letting you leave..." he babbles incoherently. "Come with me, baby. Come with me, please-"

Your body tenses up like a coil, the string keeping your sanity together snapping as you shriek, Joel roaring as you both come, his spend pulsing into deep into you, thick and hot and molten.  

Joel slumps onto you, completely spent. He keeps his cock in you until he softens and slips out, his finger quickly gathering the spend seeping out of you and pushing it in, keeping it safe. He laughs as he falls onto the mattress next to you, pressing small chaste kisses on your face, taking you into his arms.  

"Did you mean it?" he asks softly, his fingers cradling your face. "Did you mean it when you said you loved me?"

You take his hand in yours, threading your fingers through his, offering him a small smile.

"I love you, Joel. So much."

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[crysta1ized]

a theory on ep11’s preview

firstly, if you’ve guessed/ theorized that non was still alive, you get 10 points!

if you also guessed that perth would help him (in that case, thanks to tee) you also get 10 points!

knowing that tee helped non escape, was definitely a plot twist. he basically lives at his uncle’s mercy, is forced to work for him and has to follow every single one of his orders so his father doesn’t die. which is a pretty shitty situation!

we saw previously that he showed guilt after non got busted for the fake accounts instead of him, but to help him escape from that very uncle? you’ll never fail to surprise me, tee!

after that, tee gives an envelope to non and tells him he’ll get him out of there.

now, what is in this envelope? my first thought was obviously money. but i also thought, what if it was a plane ticket? it’d be safer for non to get the hell out of bangkok (or even thailand) to be sure the uncle and his men could never get him. a one way flight, non leaving without looking back.

i think that with the help of perth, tee could’ve gathered enough money to pay a ticket. i mean, that would’ve benefited tee a whole lot too. non forever out of his hair, not causing any more problems. disappearing without a trace. his uncle thinking he got rid of the troublemaker.

but what happened to mr keng then?

firstly we have no idea of the extent of his injuries. we guessed that non’s were only bad enough to knock him out on the roof, but the uncle might as well have killed keng for good.

i mean, he was hit with a car, which is way worse than a few punches. in the best case scenario (for him, cause i want that bastard dead), he only got a few bruises, but the most logical one would be that his legs are broken, as well as a few ribs maybe (depending on how hard the car hit him).

if we assume he’s alive, like non (which i seriously doubt), i don’t think tee would’ve helped him at all. he’s already risking everything to save non, he wouldn’t try saving both, especially because keng doesn’t mean anything to him. he probably never even had a conversation with him.

so in my opinion, we won’t see the teacher ever again, unless he found another way to escape, such as being rescued by the police as his disappearance could’ve been noticed after some time.

now onto the fun part!

white is seen entering the arcade place, where we’ve already seen non & phee meeting up and making out at.

which means we’ll finally get teewhite whole’s backstory!

my depressing theory is that we’ll get a cute little montage of their love story, and they’ll show us how cute they are, with their little puppy love, opposites attract shit just to snatch it from us right after.

mark my words, they’ll make us love teewhite and after those little flashbacks with bright colors that distracted us for a moment, we’ll get back to our depressing and dark present.

4 possibilities after that:

best case scenario: while we get a contrast between the past and how in love they were and acted, nothing terrible happens. tee explains to the group what was revealed to the viewer in the flashbacks, that he ended up helping non and that he’s still alive. he righted his wrongs and while white is shaken up, he’s glad tee isn’t just a bully who guilt tripped a kid into money laundering, he did feel guilt and saved him from his uncle.

same as above, tee reveals everything to the group but white doesn’t forgive him. he feels betrayed and mad that tee hid that from him for so long. in white’s eyes, tee is no longer someone he can trust, or hide behind.

tee dies

white dies

while i believe those 2 last options can happen, i don’t think they’d happen at that moment. tee’s reveal scene will probably be at the beginning of the episode while the following one with phee & new may happen soon after, which is why those 2 options seem less likely to happen then.

new is clearly urging phee on to shoot.

but how? in the last scene of ep10, fluke is the one who has it and he clearly doesn’t want to let it go. he let white out of his grasp and is now pointing it at tee.

but fluke is clearly out of it, and is the one suffering the most from hallucinations, which made him shoot top even though his only principle was clearly to never act, to keep his hands clean of anything that could prevent him of becoming a doctor. too late now!

someone could take advantage of his delirious state and while he’s distracted, take the gun from him, like white, who’s on the ground, kinda behind fluke and now out of his sight. which is when phee could take the gun, as he’s the unofficial new leader and appears trustworthy as he just exposed new.

but who is phee pointing the gun at?

i think it’s most likely fluke. he’s clearly losing his mind and the hallucinations are making him aggressive, like top. which is why they may have to kill him before he kills someone else.

phee clearly wants to make the right decision, surely wants to kill him or just hurt him because fluke is an active threat. but tan just wants to see them all gone! he clearly has nothing to lose left, now that phee exposed him, this is his last chance to avenge his brother.

alternative theory:

phee might be pointing the gun at someone else.

according to how tee’s revelation ends, especially how non’s story ends, something might happen after that.

phee wouldn’t be pointing the gun at someone who didn’t deserve it, who wasn’t a threat to the group.

so why would it be tee? in my opinion, non escaped the country, end of story. but maybe something happened to him just before he could get out. then new would get mad at tee, blaming him. tee fights him. then he would represent a threat. or maybe the hallucinations come back and he gets violent.

then of course new would be happy to see phee shoot tee, who was the whole reason non even got involved with dangerous mafia shit in the first place.

the last scene is new, lighting a cigarette.

why would he be smoking in the middle of all this? like he has time to do that?

maybe it’s just a meaningless scene they’re throwing in the preview so they don’t have to spoil too much stuff.

but, still, new is the only one who's going through with his plan, and he wouldn’t waste time on lighting a cigarette! unless it’s truly chaos, and like we know, he smokes to de-stress.

creepily, when i saw the scene the first time, i thought ‘this is his last cigarette. they’re holding him at gunpoint and they allow him to smoke one last time before they pull the trigger’ because he’s clearly shivering. but that may be way too far as i don’t think any of them would shoot anyone in cold blood if they weren’t actively threatened.

but a more plausible theory would be that they’re forcing him to smoke. in the scene where new is urging phee on to shoot, phee looks at him ‘like, what the fuck?’ like he’s not liking new telling him what to do at all.

maybe then, phee doesn’t shoot anyone, not fluke, not tee, but instead turns on new and points the gun at him. maybe phee really doesn’t want any kind of revenge for non anymore as his brother became too violent for his liking. but phee wouldn’t shoot new.

he could however hold him at gunpoint, and force him to smoke one of the drugged cigarettes, one with an X. maybe so he isn’t an active threat to them anymore, urging them to kill each other and to cause more chaos. they’d be on equal ground as he’d start hallucinating too.

what do you think?

[unanswered-stars]

Azris Day 3: Contact - The Beginning and End of Friendship

The spirit of Azris must be strong in my house because all of my younglings napped/did quiet time at the same time. Which is an absolute miracle that hasn’t happened in many weeks but it gave me the perfect opportunity to whip this up!

Not my original idea for this prompt but alas time was of the essence so this is what you get. I apologize for any errors/inconstancies this was written very hurriedly in a little over an hour and completely unedited because I had no time and we die like men. Also we are going to pretend that I live in Hawaii because it’s still the 4th/Azris day 3 there.

Takes place post ACOSF started as a silly/funny back and forth between Azriel and Eris. I apologize in advance. Please enjoy.

Read here on ao3

Preview

Dear Spymaster,

What is is with you people and meetings only happening at night, that is besides the point but thought it was worth pointing out. I will see you then spymaster.

The day you beat me is the day I hand over the Autumn Court to you.

Sincerely,

Eris

Sing a little ditty if you want on or off the tag train

@chunkypossum @futurehunt @fieldofdaisiies @hieragalbatorixdottir @the-darkestminds @azrisweek

[intern-seraph]

brief wip preview of my general lilia vanrouge/human general reader fic. in which u are snarky and a wee bit flirtatious and he thinks you're the most annoying creature to ever live. too bad he has to capture you alive!

cws: blood and injury, near-death experiences

You're dying.

That's one thing you know for certain. The other? You've lost. As you struggle to keep yourself awake, you watch your soldiers drop one by one around you. A ragged cough rips through your chest and splatters across the crushed flowers you lie atop.

A shout from nearby calls your attention, but you can barely muster up the energy to move more than your eyes. The shadow cast over you is familiar, however. Your second-in-command. She cries out your name, dropping to her knees and reaching for you. With tremendous effort, you lift your hand to stop her.

"No. Leave me," you say, weak but authoritative.

"No! General, we can't abandon you! You'll be —"

"I'm already going to die. Don't… don't waste your energy." You fumble with the medallions attached to your gambeson. Then, with trembling, bloody fingers, you press the one representing your rank into her palm. She sobs as you urge her to curl her hand around it. "Take this and go. Order anyone still alive to retreat."

Shaking her head, she tries to thrust the medallion back into your hands. "I won't leave you here!"

"Leave! That's —" another wet cough, splattering blood over your armor "— that's an order. Make sure that, hah, that some of these men make it home."

Finally, her face steels with resolve. She nods and rises again. Wordlessly, she salutes you.

And then you're alone again.

The air stinks of blood, both fae and human. You can taste your own filling your mouth. Since the day you joined His Majesty's army, you knew that you would die on the battlefield. What a pity, though, that it's in such a total, bitter defeat.

"What a pleasant surprise."

The voice makes your heart thud in your chest. With the little strength you have left, you try to push yourself up on your elbows. The sharp edge of a fae blade pins you in place. You follow its ornate green length up to meet the masked snarl of its wielder.

"Vanrouge," you murmur. You crack a smile that's rendered grotesque by your bloodied teeth and bruised face. "I should have known this was your work."

He presses the blade harder against your skin. "You look more pathetic than I ever thought you would."

"H-hah, you think of me that often?" The edges of your vision are starting to darken. "'M flattered."

The blade lifts away, and you collapse onto your back with a painful thud. Vanrouge crouches over you, his knee on your chest and his palm pressed to your throat. "Unfortunately for you, I need you alive."

The heat of healing magic strikes your skin. You cry out with the sudden searing sensation, feeling every single inch of your wounds knitting back together. By the time he’s done, tear tracks run down your cheeks. He hasn’t even healed you completely; it’s just enough to keep you alive. You convulse with a hacking cough, and Vanrouge steps away to avoid the spatter of bloody saliva. “Fuck, you didn’t have to make it… shit… make it hurt that much… and here I thought we were friends.”

You can hear the sneer in his voice when he snaps, “I would never be ‘friends’ with the likes of you, human.”

“You wound me.” You laugh. Immediately you regret it, and you dissolve into hacking coughs again. “Shi-i-it… your men did a number on me…”

Of course, Vanrouge ignores you. He manhandles you onto your stomach and wrenches your arms behind your back, binding them in thick, coarse rope. You don’t bother fighting back. You know when to pick your battles. When he pulls you up to your feet, you stumble for a moment, cursing under your breath as your leg threatens to give out completely, but manage to keep your footing. Even as he forces you into an unsteady march, you keep your bloodied grin plastered on your face. His soldiers shout and jeer at you, but give you both a wide berth — the Shadow General terrifies even his own men, it seems.

You don’t get a chance to take in your accommodations for the journey to the Land of Briar’s capital city. The blood loss finally overtakes your adrenaline, and everything goes black.

—

The first time you faced the Shadow General was several years ago, when you were a fresh-faced footsoldier in His Majesty’s army. You were marching to meet up with the rest of the King’s army to aid in a siege. On that fateful night, you made camp in a quiet copse of trees. None of the other soldiers in your squadron had been expecting Vanrouge to emerge from the woods like a wraith, his monstrous mask paralyzing some of your younger comrades on the spot with terror. The fae’s ambush was short and bloody, leaving only half of your squadron clinging to life. While the few magic-users scrambled to remember their healing spells, you stood strong against Vanrouge, himself. For a moment, he’d pinned you to a tree, and you stared directly into those soulless, unblinking eyes. Some kind of manic energy must have overcome you, because when you opened your mouth to pant for breath, instead you choked out a few raspy words:

“Isn’t this… a little intimate?”

You didn’t need to see his face to know that he was repulsed. He dropped you immediately. While you crouched on the leaf-litter and wheezed, he called for his soldiers to withdraw. Then, without looking back at you, he vanished into the night. You never told your surviving comrades what happened, or why he spared you your life. You still don’t know, yourself.

—

You wake up in a haze of pain and exhaustion. Around you, everything is dark and blurry. When you try to sit up, your ribs threaten to pop out of your chest, and you flop back with a frustrated huff. Damn him for only healing you partway. You’ve been stripped of your armor and dressed in a kind of hospital gown. The fabric is thin and irritates your skin if you move too much, but that might just be the medicine you can feel seeping into your healing wounds. All things considered, you’re far more intact than you would’ve expected. They haven’t even bothered to put you in chains, although that might be less of a courtesy and more knowledge that you don’t have the strength at the moment to actually move. Nearby, a heavy door creaks open. You try to crane your neck towards the sound, but only succeed in straining what can only be a torn… something.

“... jesty, I respect your judgment, but again I must ask why? I’m needed on the front lines, not here.”

“Lilia, you know this human better than any of my prison guards. And this may be a much-needed break from your regular duties.”

“A break?”

His tone of voice makes you wince. Surely his Queen would punish his cheek?

She laughs, her voice rich and deep. “Yes, a break. You are sorely in need of one, if your soldiers’ reports are to be believed. This should be suitably calm while keeping your mind occupied.”

“If by ‘calm’ you mean ‘insufferable,’ I suppose you’re correct, Your Majesty.”

[mkstrigidae]

Winter's Child Preview WIP (Surprise!)

Some of the pieces I have written for Winter's Child are more edited than I realized, so I thought I'd share one here as a treat for all of you who have stuck with the story through my accidental hiatus. We start reeeeally getting into some of the lore I've developed for the story going forward, and I'm excited to hear what you think of it!

“It’s so dark, father.” Sansa shuddered as her eyes flicked around her and she clutched tight at her father’s hand. She was all of eight years old, and had never been this far back into the crypts. Her other hand was firmly ensconced in Bael’s fur as she held onto his leg. “Why must our kin rest in such a- a lonely place?”

Her father chuckled, the sound echoing in the cavern.

“’tis not lonely, child.” He told her, easily lifting her up onto his hip. “Our crypts hold our kin- the history of our house. Hard men and honorable men and men who survived many winters. Can you think of better company for us in death?”

Sansa had to admit that this made sense. she snuggled closer to her father, tucking her head in his neck. Lady seemed wary as well, sticking close by Bael’s side. She was still tiny, next to the massive adult direwolf, and kept darting under him, eyes flicking around at the stone figures.

“You’re freezing already, sweetling.” Her father frowned, putting a hand to her cheek. “Your skin is like ice.”

“I’m not cold.” Sansa insisted, stubbornly. She didn’t want to go back yet. The crypts frightened her, but it was so rare that her father’s attention was focused on her and her alone. “Why are our crypts underground?”

“Where should they be?”

“Mother’s family lay their kin to rest in the rivers.” She murmured, playing with a lock of her father’s dark hair. “The Targaryens burned their dead, Maester Luwin said.”

Her father smiled at her.

“Would that your brothers paid half as much attention in their lessons.” He shook his head. “We return to the embrace of the earth- to rest under the roots of the weirwood and the eyes of the old gods.” he was quiet for a moment as they reached her aunt Lyanna’s tomb. “The old gods grant us the privilege of their power while we live.”

“Our gifts.” Sansa murmured. “The direwolves.” Bael leaned his head down, nuzzling at her dangling feet and she giggled.

“Yes, sweetling.” her father murmured, his eyes flashing for a second. “We return that gift to the earth when we die. The stone keeps in our bones, but our ancestors rest on the earth itself.” he gestured towards the older tombs, overrun with great, twisting white roots. “We feed the weirwood in death, allowing her to take back our magic.”

“Old Nan told me that the crypts are deep enough to keep our wild magic in.” Sansa told him. “Especially the Starks of old. Before Torrhen. The kings of winter.”

“Perhaps she is right.” Ned murmured, setting Sansa down to stand next to him in front of Lyanna’s statue. His gaze was indecipherable as he looked on her stone face. She had been beautiful, Sansa knew. Everyone always said so. She was beautiful even in stone, her companion, Alya, carved beside her. “The gift granted to the Starks of old was different from the wolves, sweetling. Harsher, wilder- more dangerous. Those who could call winter to their fingertips do not rest easily.”

“Why not?”

“To hold sway over winter was to call and command death itself.” Her father told her, his voice soft. “To live with one foot in the world of the gods. It was a wild gift, Sansa, and not one to be taken lightly.”

She nodded, solemnly. She had read the stories of the Stark kings of old. She wasn’t sure she would ever want to meet one, even if they were kin. One question kept tugging at the back of her mind, though.

“Father?”

“Yes, sweetling?”

“Why did the gods take it from us? The winter-blood gift, i mean.”

“I wish I knew.” Ned told her, his gaze not directed towards her, but rather to his sister’s face. “But none but Torrhen Stark and his immediate kin would know, and his bones remain silent. They hold no answers for us here.”

The two were silent for another moment.

“Do you think the gods will ever give it back to us?” Sansa asked, softly.

Her father’s face momentarily crumpled into a deep grief before he seemed to steady himself, digging a hand into Bael’s thick fur.

“Perhaps.” he murmured, laying a wreath of evergreen atop his sister’s tomb. There were snowflakes etched up and down the stone. Sansa had always thought it oddly beautiful for something so grim. “We can only wait on the gods, sweetling. One day, they may answer your question.”

[lazodiac]

It's time again to look at Thunder Junction's cards and try and divine where each and every one of these bad boys are from.

Also just a note in case people are curious; since Tumblr has a 30 image limit per post, I'll be doing all of The Big Score at the end, after all the colours and stuff. It's my prerogative and I'll do as I please. If you missed the first part, you can find it here! So without further ado, it is time for...

BLUE

While I don't think EVERY mount is from Thunder Junction Proper... newts ARE a creature that shows up in the west. I was initially thinking this could be for Eldraine, especially given it belongs to an archmage, but... ultimately, I think this is a native to the plane.

Another native, and dare I say this is a CHARISMATIC crab. I love the crystals on its back! I also love the blue cacti nearby it? Those are real by the way!

There aren't many turtle-men in Magic. Three, in fact, before this one; the Lagoon Sage, a Quandrix student, and a Kappa from Kamigawa. The Kappa has a VERY distinct look, the Quandrix is a sea turtle, and the Lagoon Sage is a snapper just like the Thunder-Thief over here... and I'm gonna make a called shot and say this is from Bloomburrow as a result!

Homarid are a Dominaria specialty, so this racist bastard is absolutely from there.

Djinn of this type are only found on Tarkir, so this one is easy. He's taken a break from his dragon-infested plane to relax under a waterfall martial artist style, and that's just kinda fun.

This is a tricky one, since the ability is pretty plane agnostic, and the design doesn't evoke much in it... but her collar DOES have the typical three-fang Dimir tell, and it'd fit both colour and what she's doing, so lets go with Ravnica.

Sadly a cursory Wiki glance tells me only that this guy is from America.

... okay okay, taking this seriously; the wings and the scroll and the steps, the name, all the flavour suggests this is from Amonkhet for me. It could be from elsewhere, but this feels the most "correct" for lack of a better term. I wish cards like this would get flavor text reprints down the line though...

These are some home-grown ghosts, and we know from various other stories (Gideon, Elspeth, etc) that when you die you go to the afterlife of the plane you're on... so these are some newly "born" natives.

These unfortunate individuals are from the dead plane of Oregon.

... what? I already used that joke? Okay fine. There really isn't any actual signifiers here, and the only humanoid in the art is too indistinct to tell. Given the content of the card is trying and failing to ford one of Thunder Junction's mighty rivers, I'm calling this card "native to the plane" for lack of anything else appropriate.

Oh hey it's everyone's favorite running gag from Ravnica. Fblthp is an easy one, so instead of elaborating more on our mono-eyed friend instead I'll bring up a question I want any of you reading this to answer.

Didn't they say during the initial preview teasers that there was an important plot event happening in the background of this card? That never bore fruit and I can't remember the exact preview stream I heard it, but I swear I did. I want someone to confirm this for me. I'm abusing my power.

Regrettably, the flavor text makes this spell be sourced from Oko's Home Plane. I do love this weird tumbleweed creature though!

God I hate Oko he's such a scum bag (derogatory).

A personal favorite character of mine, Geralf is an Innistradi born and raised, here to investigate the Thunder of the plane- as well as test how mana bonds work for planebound folk now that they have access to planar travel. Good luck, sir.

An obvious native of the plane. I quite like the flavor of this card as well by the way, it's just a clever way to incorporate the geysers you would occasionally see in the old west.

Another Thunder Junction native! It's wild how many of these there actually are, but wild animals do make up a bulk of cards in Magic so it's not THAT unreasonable.

Fun lore tidbit; allegedly the Thunder only started after the Omenpaths opened up. No one has lived here before that so no one can confirm that is true, and this flavor text suggests otherwise.

One of the only cards showcasing the least important members of Oko's gang of ruffians! Kaervek and Satoru busting out of jail thanks to the help of Annie Flash. The framing of the card makes it feel more like Kaervek's doing the real world (valid, Satoru is a loser this entire story) so I'm gonna call it for Zhalfir here- and yes even though technically everyone from Zhalfir is from Dominaria, it's a plane all its own now. I make the rules here!

The Fomorian made star-key to open up their vault on Thunder Junction, I feel like it is safe to say this was made here. It's got little arcs of Thunder and even looks like a deputy star, so it fits the vibe.

Fun fact; being a six pointed star, plus the fact that in the story they mentioned the sixth slot started glowing purple, I briefly had the idea that they might be implying the Fomorian's know of Purple magic and we'll get it in the big Space set we're getting down the line. Then I remembered Cosmium is purple and a major energy source for the Fomorion people, so nevermind.

I can't confidently say this is from Bloomburrow, given we don't know how big the people of that plane can get- so far they've maxed out at Badger and Fox- but I really don't know where this guy could be from otherwise! Maybe Ravnica? So lets call this Bloomburrow until corrected otherwise.

Incidentally this is one of my favorite pieces of art in the set. Love this fucking guy.

Beyond all the art signifiers, I believe it was straight up said on twitter this is a Therosian Sphinx, so she's from Theros. Good for her. Why is she wearing spurs...?

I'm fairly confident this is meant to depict Stella Lee, and she's from the Atiin people, so that's where this is from! Rundo meanwhile sounds like a Ravnica, but that's just some trivia.

This one I'm not fully sure on. The little bird like flecks of white in his magic, the watery energy... I feel like I've seen it somewhere before, but I can't quite place it. The red and blue suggests Izzet but then he's a Slickshot, the red-blue faction on Thunder Junction. I'm gonna go with my gut and say Ravnica, though.

Shit like this is why I wish we'd gotten a planeswalker guide...

Blue, so far, has some of the most easy and obvious ones to place, and for this I'm thankfully. This guy is a Stitcher, so he's from Innistrad. Easy as.

She's got some of the Sterling Company aesthetic going on, but I'm a stickler for stupid jokes so I'm gonna say she's from Zendikar. The armor could evoke Sea Gate, and they've always been good with ropes so why NOT translate that to combat?

Like with the earlier ghosts, dead-then-revived means you're native to Thunder Junction... but also this guy is clearly an Obscura from New Capenna, using some of his old magic, so I'mma call it for the big city here.

Oko's big bad gang preparing for the heist of the life-time. Since it's Oko's big idea it's from Oko's stupid plan.

The sort of misty blasts of fire and ice we're seeing here is aesthetically similar to the "gunfire" magic of New Capenna. I love this guy by the way.

Hey wait a second Ashiok can't do stuff like this. They can only read nightmares, not minds!

YEah for those of you who don't know, the Ashiok in this set is actually Jace in disguise! So this is from home-grown celtic Vryn mind-shredding. Our hero(?) ladies and gentlehommes.

An actual Sterling Company goon, though at least this one has a funny joke to his card. I still really like the work they did in making sure every weapon used in the set has the needed arcing loop for Thunder to channel through it.

Oh right the reason why we're here. I'm gonna say New Capenna again, because there's basically no defining traits here. Also god I just realized he's missing the front brim of his hat and it looks terrible. Graywater pay your men properly they can't even afford complete hats!

It took me a bit to realize what was happening in this card. The lady in the back is only choosing the final Spree option here, swapping around the Outcaster and the Hellspur's clothing. Rude!

Clothing swap spells seems like a funny prank to pull at magical college, so Arcavios is where this is going.

I think in cases where I just cannot make any reasonable assumptions based on art, I should look at mechanics. Flashback is usually in Innistrad... but this lady's neckline is WAY too exposed for that Even accounting for the new plane... honestly I give up, the only real identifying factor here is her little lockpick device, which... kinda looks Kamigawan? Lets go with that.

The vibe, the way she wears her hat, and the little phone cord(?) on her belt makes me think of New Capenna. Look some of these are really difficult and I gotta go by vibes!

And that's the 30 card limit, give me a half second for part two!

[thewinter-smolder]

i was stuck in traffic for a long time and it gave me the time to let my "once upon a time i used to write fanfiction before capitalism killed my soul" self loose for a while so i'm just gonna pretend i've been granted the gift of vision

because it was weird they took the time to show us how the blackbeard outfit sank to the bottom of the sea (mind you, for the amount of light in that shot, i'm gonna assume it wasn't that deep, also it was like 5 minutes before Izzy said they docked so they were near land after all)

it was also weird to see how ed gets rid of the outfit because we see him on the preview for the season finale wearing it -i mean, actually emerging from the sea with it.

so what a coincidence it is for ed to be a fisherman now (don't get me started on "the fish is whatever" discourse because i'm 100% siding with stede on this one), because they will either show us another fisherman pulling out blackbeard's clothes from the water just as Ed decides to go back to land and check on Stede or

he's about to jump again into the water (just as we've seen him do before to rescue stede) and, with the power of gay, he will cross upon his clothes that are not just drifting through the sea: they are tied in a net and under a cannon ball to keep them down below.

so you might ask: mmmmm have we seen that image before? and i'm gonna say HELL YES.

because hornigold tied ed to a rock and then threw said rock off the cliff to make ed sink, and die, and be forgotten.

but then merman stede came to the rescue.

and now it's time for merman ed to show up (was i dreaming or did max australia confirmed that the title of the season finale was "mer-men" or something like that?). not necessarily to rescue stede (he probably will, afterwards) but to rescue blackbeard who is now drowning.

because if stede appeared to ed as a sign of hope, a sign of light, this new ed is also that for the blackbeard who shelters under the kraken persona.

for years, ed has believed that he was a monster for killing his father. but he forgets that killing his father meant his mom would be safe (and if that makes you think of black pete turning around lucius' situation to let him see that, yes, he almost got killed, but he also LIVED, well congrats because i did too)

the kraken was born the day ed killed his father saved his mother and will be born again (the symbolism of him emerging from the sea, man, what a time to be alive) now that the love of his life stede and izzy and fang and frenchie and lucius and jim and pretty much the entire community that made him feel be part of something over the years need to be saved.

we're about to come full circle and see blackbeard's swan song, when he makes peace with the kraken and sees him not as a monster, but as a guardian. and can be at peace with the idea that he is both and he doesn't have to kill a part of him, but to embrace it and

TURN POISON INTO POSITIVITY

[jobrker]

the bird's gonna make the wedding bed

Summary: She does not want a wedding night. Anthony is gentle with her and whispers to her that they can wait as long as she wants to. There's no rush from him. Johanna leans into her husband's words, savoring them, but she isn't prepared for all of the ups and downs that come with having--or attempts at having--a wedding night. Warnings: past csa/sexual abuse/sexual assault, implied anorexia (restrictive type), period-typical misogyny, pregnancy, and childbirth. Read on: Ao3 Preview:

She does not want a wedding night.

On a gray day in the middle of November, the housekeeper came in with a grave expression on her face. She took in her tilted brows and somber lips (had someone fallen ill? Her governess? Or worse, had someone died? The governess? A maid? The judge? ). The housekeeper, Mrs. Eastman told her to sit back down as she took a set on the bed across from where Johanna was sitting on her spare chair. 

“Mrs. Eastman–” Johanna began before getting interrupted. 

“Do you remember the day you first got your monthly?” 

Monthly? What did that have to do with, well, anything ? Brows purse. The day she got her monthly, she woke up with blood on her nightdress. When she realized where the blood came from, she assumed she was dying. No one ever told her about an illness where you can die from bleeding out from there , but she couldn’t deny it’s shameful existence. Johanna padded her underskirts with a sheet she’d “accidently” torn and waddled about her room for the rest of the day. In an out-of-character objection, she politely said she wasn’t interested in taking a walk that day. Her governess’s eyebrows shot up at that. She knew so little about her care, but knew she enjoyed her little tastes of freedom. It wasn’t until the laundry was done that anyone realized what a humiliating disease God was subjecting her to. It was then someone explained to her that this was entirely normal for members of the female sex. That it would happen once a month . 

But most of all, she learned it wasn’t a topic for polite conversation. Or for any conversation at all. 

Johanna’s fingers reached to tug on a stray curl. “Yes?”  

Mrs. Eastman drummed her fingers on her knee. The sound of fingertips hitting fabric was agonizing. “There is more to it that you ought to know of. Concerning your impending womanhood.”

“More to it?” 

Becoming a woman seemed to be the only positive of the situation. Johanna considers herself to be a young lady now. The concept seemed simple enough. A woman bleeds for roughly a week then is able to move on with her life until the next month. A girl stays at home during that time (or in Johanna’s case, another week, then another, and another…). A horrible price to pay, but how else could God punish womankind for Eve’s first transgression? 

“Yes. You see...” Mrs. Eastman tilted her head to the side, then back again, trying to figure out the best way to articulate this to a young girl. “Do you know why this happens to women in the first place and not to the men?” 

“Because of Eve...?”

“That is why we experience pain.” She straightened her spine to the point where it has to be straighter than a ruler. “The bleeding stops once a woman discovers that she is going to have a baby.” 

“A baby?” 

Eyes grew wider and wider as the process was explained to her. Mrs. Eastman was no-nonsense. A proud woman who sat with her back like a needle despite the fact that she was not born into the middle-class. It was explained in a tone that did not beetle Johanna, but made it clear that she is still much too young for such activity. Johanna’s cheeks were bright red and fingers numb. People enjoy such a thing? Well, the women not as much, it is not about their enjoyment, but the men? They could enjoy... that?

The only thing she really gets out of the conversation is that the bleeding must go away for that since the woman has finally contributed something: a child. 

After asking if she had more questions (which Johanna didn’t; she wanted the conversation to end sooner), Mrs. Eastman gave a nod and left Johanna to try to wrap her mind around what is supposed to happen during one’s wedding night. Perhaps, if that is what happens, she didn’t want to be married at all. But then, she would be trapped with the judge forever if she does not marry. She loses either way. 

Read the rest on ao3

[blackbyrenflowers]

My thoughts on Season 2, episode 1: A Son for a Son

Some general spoiler-light thoughts:

No mention or presence of Maelor or Daeron, unfortunately.

Jace was definitely the highlight of the episode.

Nice to see more of Aegon - he seems to like being king, to put it lightly.

Overall, I'd say a 6.5/10. Maybe a 7.5, if it hadn't been for the way they did B&C, which was... well I didn't go into the episode with the highest hopes, but I'm still disappointed. I'll make another post on it.

More details below:

Perhaps it's just my unrealistic expectations after so much time waiting, but this episode felt a bit muted. It sort of reminded me of Episode 6 - a general catch up after a long absence, where we see how everyone's doing. Necessary, but it's not going to be electric.

The opening at the Wall felt like it suffered from the need to have Jace back at Dragonstone in time for Luke's funeral. Which is a shame, because what we got of him and Cregan felt really good - my favorite little bit was Jace reminiscing about how Aegon and Torrehn Stark stood where they were, only for Cregan to sarcastically thank Jace for not threatening him with Vermax.

I will say though, the different motivations they gave Cregan was kind of odd - in the book he sends only his Winter Wolves because he needs his men for the harvest (otherwise they'll starve and die), but in the show he needs them to protect the Watch in case the Others show up? Is the implication supposed to be that the North sends thousands of men to protect the Wall at the beginning of winter (which in Westeros, can last for years)? And this happens every year, never mind the logistical strain this would place on the entire North and the Night's Watch? Alright, buddy.

No scenes in the Vale, unfortunately, presumably due to the same reasons for the condensed Wall plot. We're told that Jeyne agreed to support Rhaenyra in exchange for a dragon to defend the Vale, but we don't get to see the Maiden of the Vale. Of course this episode had a lot to cover, but it would've been nice to see her.

In my opinion, the highlight of the episode is Jace reporting to Dragonstone. He stands proud, strong (no pun intended), but has a wavering voice as he struggles to tell Rhaenyra about his diplomatic mission - and then he breaks down and Rhaenyra rushes to embrace her.

Rhaenyra I feel doesn't do much this episode. She spends her time looking for Luke's remains, finds a cloak tangled up in his dragon, she's there at the funeral. I like her pained, subdued entrance to the war council, announcing that she wants Aemond's head - but it feels like a bit of a narrative retread of the end of episode 10.

From all the reviews raving about Tom's acting chops, he was probably my most anticipated character in season 2. I wouldn't say I'm disappointed in his portrayal, but he was a bit more... carefree than I was expecting. A great actor, but the reality of the war doesn't seem to have sunken in for Aegon yet. Definitely my most anticipated watch for the next episode, however. A vengeful, grieving Aegon will be fun to watch.

Moving over to his mother, we see that Alicole is a thing now - our first glimpse of the two is Cole kneeling between Alicent's legs. It's implied this isn't the first time, but it's unclear for how long it's been going on. I feel like this episode could've used a little more time between them. However, I do very much appreciate the touch of Alicent being the one to put Cole's white cloak back on. Very obvious symbolism, but I approve of it all the same.

We get a preview of some upcoming characters - Alyn appears as a shipwright in the Driftmark docks. He gives his condolences to Corlys for the loss of his heir, and Corlys thanks Alyn for being the one to pull him from the sea in episode 6. Interestingly, Alyn seems almost uncomfortable to be thanked by his "lord" (gee, I wonder why?).

Hugh Hammer shows as a blacksmith petitioning Aegon for more funds due to rising iron prices. No real foreshadowing there, though I did find it slightly amusing how he was obviously well-groomed compared to all the other petitioners - he's definitely not a reoccurring character.

And that's all I can think of, I guess. Looking forward to next week.

[kingsmoot]

do you have any miscellaneous thoughts about theon and asha's storylines in winds? (big question i know sorry, you can answer short as you like)

AKH no this is a v neat question and i will confess i have actually not read any of the winds preview chapters :o back in 2013/4 when i read the series for the first time i made the decision not to read them because i didn't want just a taste of the next book i wanted to be patient and wait for the whole thing

that said i actually struggle to envision where their storylines are going tbh!!! theon's arc concluding with saving jeyne and himself and reuniting with asha makes. sense. it is a very narratively satisfying end. what he does beyond this reunion is a mystery to me although i hope he gains some weight back and gets some good dentures and some warm wool and furs and experiences 🎶that feeling of sexual healing that makes him feel so fine 🎶 courtesy of his big sister but that's just my own personal wishlist!!!!!!!!!!!!

i want him to reunite w jon at the wall and i am. genuinely kinda scared that jon will behead him NNNNNOOOOOO JON!!!! this isn't super likely bc i think killing theon after All That™️ would be... idk it would be a very strange narrative beat i think. like grrm is obviously known for killing off characters but i do NOT think he does it nonsensically and i do NOT think he does it for shock value. i think a v clear theme in theon's entire arc post-acok is that he doesn't get to die. he needs to live with who he is, what he did, and what was done to him. he doesn't get an easy out. he needs to carry the pain over onward and through. so i don't see death in the cards for theon. i do think it will be interesting for him to meet jon again, this time both of them as dead men. and i would LIKE!!!!!! for them to reunite with cat. the three undead final remnants of house stark who the old gods refuse to let go of. delicious.

but in general i am extremely bad at predicting anything in asoiaf. like the story just feels too massive to me. i feel like i understand most of it in a way that i feel confident dissecting, but i have never had a sense of "oh i see where this is going" or "i have a good sense of what will happen next". like i've just never been able to sense the shape of it in that way.

PART OF THIS I TRULY FEEL IS BC GEORGE DOESN'T OUTLINE ANYTHING. AND IT'S LIKE WELL YES KING WE CAN TELL.

generally when i get This Into a series i feel like i have a sense of it and can make predictions based on my working knowledge of canon but i've never felt this way w asoiaf. i just feel like i'm along for the ride.

i'm very curious what will happen to asha because i have a sneaking suspicion the show's route of her actually leading house greyjoy might have some semblance of truth in the books... like i don't see vic, euron, and aeron surviving long enough to rule, so i think asha and theon being the only two left (i know theon dies in the show it's fucking stupid and george wouldn't do that) is pretty likely. especially since house greyjoy is already a big worm riddled house of usher situation. and especially since ironborn independence has been a futile suicide mission for generations. so that'll be interesting to see!!! i also wonder if theon might stay on the mainland and take the black. not exactly a CHOICE to take the black but i don't see a version of events where he gets to the wall and jon tells him "no hard feelings" and they hug it out and then theon gets to go home. UNLIKELY. HE KILLED AND RAPED A WHOLE BUNCH OF PEOPLE. TWO OF THEM CHILDREN.

so this answer is a whole bunch of nothing i'm sorry!!! i generally think that theon making it to stannis' convoy to reunite w asha will be a brief respite and not a permanent one and i do not see them ending the series together (here not implying romantically just like in proximity to one another). if they do make it back to winterfell and overwhelm the occupying bolton force i hope they find a bed 😎👉👉 and that theon has a panic attack and asha is like jesus christ i should've bought a dog off craiglist instead of picking one off the kill list at the local shelter this is too much work 😒

SORRY GOT DISTRACTED AGAIN ok i see asha making her way back to the iron islands and i see theon taking the black. what will happen between those things is a bif fat question mark for me but i hope at least some of it is lewd ✌️

[chiriwritesstuff]

'Love, Joel'- a 'The Girl in IT' Companion Piece - Pt. 1 - 'The Tornado Watch'

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: T

Chapter Preview: "Joel?" your voice calls out, followed by a knock on his window. "What the hell are you doing here? The news issued a tornado watch. You shouldn't be here," you say, frowning. Despite your concern, Joel can't help but smile at the sight of you. Your hair is tied into a messy bun on the top of your head, and your oversized sleep shirt falls off one shoulder. If you weren't frowning at him, he swears the mere sight of you would knock him off his feet. His hands itch to reach out to you, pulling you into his truck so he can kiss that frown off of your face, wishing you a good morning. He imagines his fingertips grazing the skin of your bared shoulder, pressing a kiss on your skin as your head tilts in pleasure-

Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Joel is an idiot who disregards weather warnings, please be smart and shelter if caught in a tornado warning!, no beta we die like men!

Word Count: 2K

A/N: ... and here it is! Part 1 of my 500 Follower Celebration, 'Love, Joel'- a look behind the 10 years of Joel's pining for our favorite girl in IT, Sugar. I thought it would be really fun to see what happened in the span of those 10 years, where Joel worked his ass off trying to feel worthy of our girl! Thank you so much for all of the love and support you all have given me and this little fic of mine, words can't describe just how much it all means to me!

Remember when Sugar asked Joel about the moment he realized he was in love with her and he mentioned something about a Tornado Watch? This is that story.

The National Weather Service in Austin/San Antonio has issued a Tornado Watch for Travis County until 5pm... please do not attempt to leave and find shelter-

"Dad, are you serious?" Sarah's voice echoes through the phone in disbelief. "The entire campus is on lockdown, and I'm stuck in a basement with 50 other panicked girls. Why in the world are you heading to work?"

"The weather lady mentioned it's just a tornado watch, not a warning," Joel defends.

Sarah sighs on the other end of the line. "I really think you should turn around and head back home, you know, like a rational human being."

"Can't do that. The project is already behind, and I can't afford for it to fall even further behind. Plus, I owe Tommy money for all the overtime he's been putting in," Joel explains, a touch of frustration evident in his voice. "I'm already in hot water with the client as it is. You know how it is, baby girl."

"I'm pretty sure this client of yours is sitting comfortably in their own shelter in that big house of theirs. The actual nerve—"

"Sarah, I get it, okay? The moment it escalates to a warning, I'll come down from the roof and join them in that cushy shelter, okay?" Joel reassures, attempting to ease Sarah's concerns.

"Promise?" she asks softly, and Joel envisions the hint of a frown in her voice. "Or else I won't come home over the weekend."

"You're going to come back home this weekend?" Joel's spirits lift, a grin playing on his face as he heads towards the job site.

"Promise me, Dad!"

"Cross my heart," he assures, turning into the driveway. "Need a ride, or you're good to make it back yourself?"

"I think I can handle an hour drive." She replies with a small chuckle. "I don't have a good feeling about this, but be safe, okay? I love you."

"Love you too, baby girl. Go shelter with the other girls now, ok?"

"Ok dad, bye."

"Bye," he says absentmindedly, the phone already disconnected after Sarah hangs up.

Joel turns off the ignition, a deep sigh escaping from his chest. He gazes into the distance, the burden of the tornado watch weighing heavily on him. He should be at home right now, preparing by filling water bottles, checking for enough batteries for lanterns and flashlights, tuning into the television for weather updates, and patiently waiting out the storm.  

Instead, echoes of his client's disappointed voice from yesterday's confrontation linger in Joel's mind, questioning why a 'simple roof repair' is stretching beyond the agreed-upon month.

"I paid you good money and took a chance on you, and you can't even deliver..."

What haunts him more is the image of you in the background, concern etched across your face.

"Dad, you can't blame him for the crappy weather we've been having! Of course, the project would be delayed," you try to reason, awkwardly placing a hand on your father's shoulder in an attempt to soothe his frustration.

"Is it your money that's paying for your mistake?" your father snaps back, shrugging off your hand. "Or do we need to revisit why you thought mounting an antenna on the roof was a brilliant idea? Who do you think you are, concerning yourself in an adult conversation?" he chides, crossing his arms. "Go back inside and help your mother with breakfast!"

Offering Joel a weak smile, you nod, turning back towards the house. Joel smiles back, the sight of your concerned face pulling at his heartstrings. His hands itch to push the errant stray hair away from your face, his hands grazing the softness of your skin spanning across your face-

"Well? What are you doing just standing there?" your father snaps. "Don't you have a roof to fix?"

Just a few more days, Joel. You can do this, he reassures himself. He idles in the car for a bit, observing the darkening grey sky.  At least Sugar should be home, maybe she'll keep me company...

"Joel?" your voice calls out, followed by a knock on his window. "What the hell are you doing here? The news issued a tornado watch. You shouldn't be here," you say, frowning.

Despite your concern, Joel can't help but smile at the sight of you. Your hair is tied into a messy bun on the top of your head, and your oversized sleep shirt falls off one shoulder. If you weren't frowning at him, he swears the mere sight of you would knock him off his feet. His hands itch to reach out to you, pulling you into his truck so he can kiss that frown off of your face, wishing you a good morning. He imagines his fingertips grazing the skin of your bared shoulder, pressing a kiss on your skin as your head tilts in pleasure-

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" your concerned voice cuts through his reverie, snapping him back to the present. "Go home, Joel. I'm sure Sarah is worried sick-" you bite your lower lip, your lips wobbling a tiny fraction. "-and I don't want you stuck here if things take a turn for the worse," you insist, a hint of worry in your eyes. 

Joel opens his truck door, shaking his head. "No can do, Sugar. You heard your dad yesterday; I need to finish this job and get out of y'all's hair. I've already overstayed my welcome." 

"I don't give a fuck what my father says, he's just being difficult as fucking usual. He's already up in arms fussing around about the watch, i'm pretty sure he's not concerned whether or not you'll show up or not," you say defiantly, frustration flushing your face. "I swear, if you don't go home, I'll force you to shelter with me!"

Well, Joel muses, the corner of his mouth rising in a smirk.  Now that's an idea I wouldn't be opposed to-

"I'm a big boy, Sugar. It's just a tornado watch, no need to worry about little ol me, okay?" he smiles, cupping your cheek.  Fuck, her skin is soft-

you lean into his touch, your eyes closing in resignation.  

"Okay Joel," you whisper, your hand meeting his.  "The moment Nancy over at KXAN mutters anything about a tornado warning, I'm climbing up that fucking ladder myself and dragging your ass to shelter, okay?"

Joel gives your face a small squeeze. "Deal."

A few hours later, as Joel continues on working on the roof over your bedroom, you stick your head out of your window, calling out to him. "Joel? The news said that a lightning storm is going to be rolling in soon. I think it's time you should head out-"

Joel stops hammering a shingle, steadying himself as he peers at you from the roof. "I just have a few more shingles to go-"

Your eyes narrow in irritation. "Joel, no. Get your ass off of the roof this instant!"

"Baby-" he breathes, kicking himself for letting the endearment he calls you in his dreams from leaving his lips. "I can't afford to lose this job, your dad is already pissed as it is-"

Your face contorts into something resembling sadness, and if he focuses on your face hard enough, he swears he sees the tears forming on the corner of your eyes. If it were a different time, in a different place, where Sarah's mother's body replaced yours, he would imagine he wouldn't even be having this conversation, having been forced to brave worse conditions before.

"How am I going to expect to survive if you don't go into work?" she would spit, shaking her head and glaring at him as Sarah wails in her booster seat at the table in the background. "It's bad enough that you basically trapped me, do you need to be here to make sure I stay? What's a little lighting storm gonna do to you, huh Joel? We need to eat!"

"Trapped you?!" he replies angrily, his hands clenching, knuckles white. "I didn't force you to stay, it's not like you're happy to be here!" He motions over to Sarah, his eyes narrowing. "Our daughter is crying out for you and you can't even be assed to comfort her!"

"I don't want to do this right now, just go Joel. You think about your attitude while you work in the storm!" she shouts, harshly grabbing Sarah from her seat and slamming their bedroom door.  

It was her cruelty and selfishness that turned Joel off from dating and finding someone else, the weight of her absence proving to be a heavy burden on him as a single father once their divorce was finalized. Sure, there were women, attractions, and occasional one-night stands, but nothing more than that. Joel could count on one hand just how many women, in the last twenty years, had stayed the night, and to be completely honest with himself, it didn't bother him in the least. He had Sarah to raise and raise right, a wayward, careless brother he had to bail out of jail when he drank just a little too much, and a business to run. He didn't have time for casual, and he didn't have the desire for anything long term. Things were going great, even if his business was barely off of the ground and he was starting to slowly swim into the depths of debt. He didn't need to add anyone else into the equation.

And then you came along.

... with your fucking smile and your bright eyes and the way that you laugh - with your entire body - as he cracks a dad joke so bad he could feel Sarah cringing all the way from her college dorm room. How instead of living your life and being a twenty-something doing something fun with friends, you would rather spend your time with him, sitting on the edge of your windowsil asking him about anything and everything, genuninely interested in what he had to say. How you would bravely climb up his ladder even if you shared that you're afraid of heights to pass him a water bottle, concerned about potential heat stroke. He wasn't used to anyone besides Sarah or Tommy fretting over him, he wasn't prepared to be completely overwhelmed by your sudden presence in his life. He wasn't looking for anyone, and yet-

You took his breath away like a hurricane, and he finds himself ready to be swept away by you and you alone.  

"Joel!" you shout suddenly from below him, your foot already on his ladder as you brace yourself, the tears flowing freely down the slopes of your cheeks. "Please, Joel, just come down! It isn't funny anymore!"

"Sugar! just stay down there, let me just finish, it'll only be five more-"

"NO!" you scream, the sight of your tears making him halt in place. "Stop FUCKING AROUND, JOEL!" you cry, shaking your head in defiance.

Joel drops his hammer and quickly jumps on the ladder, skipping a rung as he hurriedly makes his way to you. "I'm coming baby, just hold on!" he yells as he descends, the need of your body in his arms too strong to deny.  

"You fucking idiot!" you shout, practically barreling into him as his feet touch the ground. His arms instinctively wrap around your shaking form, your small fists beating on his chest as you sob into it, your tears soaking flannel. "What were you thinking, risking your life like that? No one is worth you risking your life for some fucking roof!"

Joel cradles your head as he places a soft kiss on your hair, his hand rubbing your back as he tries to settle you.

"You're wrong, you know" he whispers, his eyes closing as he tightens his hold on you harder. "There is someone risking my life for," he breathes, his mind coming into a realization.

I fucking love you, Sugar, he thinks, biting his tongue from saying it out loud as he loses himself in your embrace, wishing that the moment would never end.  I can die right here and die a happy man, he muses.  Just as long as I get to hold you like this. 

One day, he thinks.  One day I'll be able to tell you this out loud.

[edgarbright]

Ikemen Vampire Main Route // Charles chapter 23 thoughts

tl;dr Charles and his story are driving me insane and I love it so much

CHARLES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Holy shi-- That scene in the church was SO GOOD, FULL COURSE MEAL, PERFECT BAD-END TYPE OF CONTENT, I GOT TEARS IN MY EYES.

I was ready to murder Vlad if it turned out to JUST be a dream lol (MC's reaction and response at the end were so on point so thank you, girl.) I hadn't completely forgotten that moment two chapters ago between MC and Vlad before she suddenly woke up in the mansion (I am an Ikerev Loki gal, after all, so this isn't my first fake reality rodeo) but the church scene was so good it kind of pushed that moment to the back of my mind.

Because at the same time, I remembered the preview trailer where they showed Charles's CG of him bleeding out in the church while the voice over had him apologizing for his crimes and for being born. I thought this was going to be the moment.

So the MC and I were both in denial that he was dead while she feels his body going cold in her arms :')

And all the while MC is talking about the things Charles wasn't able to experience, like seeing the sunrise over the ocean, and that she needed to keep her promise with him. She asks Le Comte to bring Charles back.

Cue me nodding my head and getting intrigued at the idea of Charles being freed from the Cult of Vlad (affectionate) and getting to live the idle, wealthy lifestyle of one of le Comte's collection.

Except le Comte says he can't, he can't, because he can't sense any desire to live coming from Charles. (And the way le Comte said it breaks my heart because you could tell he regretted being unable to help.)

At last, after trying so hard, Charles had truly and utterly given up on everything. And he did it in the most horribly perfect way: as the God of Death, as a man who had experience executing thousands of people with both axe and guillotine, he killed himself with one perfect strike.

(And while I greatly appreciate the fact Cybird acknowledged his expertise to let him die with such quick precision, insert a hundred more pictures of the crying hamster here because my heart is broken!!!)

Fun fact: between Ikevamp and Ikevil, this is the third route in a row that I've read that has dealt with a suicidal Love Interest (which, hello, Cybird, that is a wild stat??? why do you have so many LI like this??) At this point in the story, however, I feel like Charles has the route that has best handled the topic in a narrative-rich and nuanced way.

Charles is so incredibly tragic and real that he's looking for hope to the point of endangering himself. He's sweet and funny and wildly friendly. He's also drowning in his tragedy and so he clings to people who might save him, such as Vlad, someone he even calls a God, someone who promises him a better world, a world where he doesn't have to experience the things that hurt him, a world where he can be happy and loved and accepted. I was thoroughly entranced in the scene where MC gets kidnapped (at last lol) and she sees how easily Charles defaults his will away to Vlad. Even though Charles asks questions several times which show his hesitancy and doubts, it becomes clear he isn't seeking truth. What he really wants are reassurances that this is right, that this is OK, that he's not making a mistake.

(He is an executioner through and through: someone else makes the choice for him. It's not his place to judge or decide.)

But in this way, Charles is just so wildly victim-coded to me in that I can clearly see him accepting abuse if it were called by any other name. When he speaks of his house calls, when he offers to let MC do anything--anything!--she wants to him, when we witness the group of men he lets beat him up (because he could have kept his truth without letting them abuse him), I dread to think what violence has been done to him in the dark streets of Paris that he has accepted in the past under the guise of the word love.

So the fact chapter 22 and 23 showed Charles realizing the solution to all his moral and ethical and emotional turmoil is to stop struggling and die, and that the story actually lets him succeed--albeit in a "highly possible future" scenario that Vlad reinforces will surely come to pass again at some point--hurt me in the best kind of way and I'm looking forward to how this route ends.

But Charles's highly probable suicide also brings up the question of why did Vlad pick Charles, of all people, to bring back as a vampire? Was Charles simply an ideal follower? Because the the key promise Vlad makes with Charles seems to make Charles somewhat useless for his plans: Charles won't have to kill anyone. What use is a perfect executioner who refuses to raise the sword?

The dynamic of Vlad, Faust, and Charles is wonderful though and I hope Vlad gives us a straight answer for the reason of his original experiment of MC teaching Charles love.

(Maybe helping Charles was Vlad's true experiment all along.)

[athina-blaine]

you can’t carry it with you if you want to survive (Nimona 2023) - Chapter 3 (Preview #1)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion)

Chapter 2 (Recap)

As Ambrosius edged towards unconsciousness, he vaguely registered a harsh scratching noise, like nails scrambling against tile. Above him, someone yelled, followed by terrified screams and a mix of pained yelps and animal-like snarls. "Monster!" "Fucking hell–!" "It's got me, man, it's got my leg–!" The next thing he knew, the cadet's pinning weight disappeared, the shadows looming over him gone. The cadets had vanished, leaving Ambrosius alone on the hard floor, chest rattling as he struggled to breathe through the saliva and blood pooling in his mouth. Exhaustion enveloped him like a thick, suffocating fog. His body, heavy and sluggish, refused to cooperate as the adrenaline wore off. Despite his best efforts, his eyes started drifting closed. The last thing he saw was the muzzle of some creature as it stepped into his line of sight, its hot breath rustling his hair as it stared down at him with black, glittering eyes. Everything went dark.

Chapter 3 (Preview #1)

As Ambrosius regained consciousness, he gradually became aware that he was being slowly crushed.

Groaning, he writhed in discomfort, a dull, throbbing pain pulsating through his head. Prying his eyes open, he tried looking around, squinting underneath the harsh glare from bright lights above him. When he recognized nothing, panic squeezed his chest.

Before he could make sense of anything, however, a figure emerged above him, flashing a smile filled with impossibly sharp, jagged teeth.

Monster.

Ambrosius lurched upright, gasping as a wave of dizziness crashed over him and sent him toppling back down. Bile rose in the back of his throat and he had to screw his lips shut—the only thing that saved him from being sick was the fact that there was nothing in his stomach left to empty.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, he turned back towards the figure. “You …”

The shapeshifter’s grin widened. 

“Me,” she said. "Good to know your head isn’t completely meat-soup, nemesis. I was putting it at 3 to 1 against, personally.”

With a forceful swallow, Ambrosius attempted to lift himself once more, slower this time. The shapeshifter’s scarlet eyes remained fixed on him, shimmering with both curiosity and amusement. Human eyes, he noted. And yet, he had to fight back a surge of unease as he cast his gaze around the room, trying to take in his surroundings.

Instead of the trashed hotel lobby, he found himself inside a shabby, rundown shack of some kind. He was lying on a threadbare couch and had been buried under a truly staggering number of thick, fuzzy blankets. A fabric ice bag lay on the ground, melting in a small puddle of its own condensation; it must have fallen off his head just when he'd been shifting around.

He tried recalling those last few moments in the lobby, but his memory was a blur. There had been the cadets. Some kind of a commotion. The muzzle of a beast. And then, nothing.

Countless questions burned his tongue. When he opened his mouth, however, the shapeshifter shot out her hand.

“I already know what you’re going to ask,” she said, “and the answers are, in order: Here, there, don't know and don’t care, and, yes, this is a new top, thank you so much for noticing.”

Ambrosius blinked, wondering if perhaps his head had indeed been turned into meat-soup. She shot him an unimpressed look.

“Tough crowd. What, you hit your head or something?”

Laughing, she doubled over, slapping her knee. Ambrosius drew in a slow, deep breath, summoning all of his patience, and decided that it wasn't his head that was the issue here.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“Oh, nowhere in particular.” Leaning forward, she dropped her voice to a low whisper. “Just the hellscape that haunts the dreams of good men. Where hope goes to die.” Straightening, she threw her hands over her head. “Welcome to the evil lair, nemesis.”

From the corner of his eye, Ambrosius took in the shack’s dilapidated walls and the junk scattered across the floor. An old board game sat abandoned on the coffee table, surrounded by dirty dishes and an almost empty jug of soda. A pizza box lay tipped over on its side, a few forgotten pieces of crust still inside.

He scrunched up his nose. Well. It certainly wasn’t like any evil lair he'd ever imagined when he was a kid. 

“Where are the cadets?" he asked, turning back to the shapeshifter. "Where’s Officer Laurel?”

Pinky digging into her ear, she lifted a brow. “Officer who now?”

“She was with me at the scene. Dark hair? Wearing a uniform? ”

“Oh, her!” she said, wiping her finger on her pants leg. “Yeah. I ate her.”

Ambrosius’ jaw slackened. Her sharp smile didn’t abate. His eyes widened. “You–”

She shoved his arm. “Freakin' relax, dude, you’re as gullible as the boss, you know that?” Shrugging, she started picking at her teeth. “Eh, she took one look at me and hit the deck. Like, fainted, like in an old movie or something.” Her eyes grew thoughtful. “Wouldn’t it be funny if she thought I was trying to eat you? That’d be pretty messed up, right?”

Ambrosius grimaced. Poor Officer Laurel; he'd need to check in with her as soon as possible. “And the cadets?”

“Those guys? Had them screaming for the hills. I’m pretty sure one of them peed his pants. Always, always funny.” Her eyes jumped to something over Ambrosius’ shoulder. “Oops, hold that thought.”

Ambrosius' eyes followed the shapeshifter as she rounded the couch before they dropped to his hands, his head still trying to process everything. Feeling dangerously close to overheating, he wriggled out from under the mountain of blankets, tossing them aside before sitting up. As he pulled out his phone, however, he scowled; the device had been crushed. Most likely a result of the fight. Another issue on his ever-growing list of problems to deal with later.

Thankfully, the screen still lit up for him at his touch. Dialing the most recent number, mindful of the cracks in the glass, he gingerly brought his phone to his ear.

“Sir!” said a voice as soon as the call connected. “Thank Gloreth, I didn’t know– I saw the cadets scampering off and I went inside and I saw this– this–” 

“Officer–”

“Sir, I saw this wolf-bear thing standing over you!” she exclaimed, her voice sharp with panic. “I think I must’ve passed out because when I woke up you were gone–”

“I’m okay, Officer,” Ambrosius said. “The wolf-bear thing is a …” 

Friend? 

But the word fell apart on his tongue. “… It was trying to help.”

“Oh! Well, that’s– That’s good, then!” She let out a forceful exhale, the sound crackling through the receiver. “I’m not sure what I would have done if something had happened to you, sir.”

Embarrassment crashed over him, sinking to the pits of his roiling stomach. He still couldn't believe he'd let a bunch of academy rookies get the better of him. How utterly disgraceful. “I’m okay. I just wanted to check in with you, Officer, make sure you weren’t hurt.”

“Forget about me, sir, it was five of those bastards against one of you! Are you sure you’re alright?”

For the first time since regaining consciousness, Ambrosius took a moment to assess how he was feeling. The side of his face was stinging, his knee aching as if it were being stabbed with a hot poker. He ran his tongue over a gash in his bottom lip, nausea rising at the metallic taste that burst in his mouth. Dizziness teased the edges of his vision, the room rocking gently on its side. Likely the results of a concussion.

The old injury in his shoulder was throbbing, pulses of dull, tingling pain shooting down his arm. He must have pulled it when he’d been throwing his weight around. He hadn’t even noticed. 

“I’ll live,” was all he said. Sighing, he lowered his head into his hand, wincing as he brushed his nose. Broken. “I'm sorry for frightening you, Officer, it wasn’t my intention. For now, you should just try and put all this behind you and return to your regular duties. I’ll take care of everything from here.”

He’d need to file a report first thing in the morning, and he tried keeping his pessimism at bay at the thought of the uphill battle that awaited him. Rarely had the objectionable behavior of cadets resulted in more than a terse reprimand during his academy days, and he knew things would only be more difficult in the kingdom’s current frenzied, emotional state. After the events of tonight, he’d likely just be seen as chasing a vendetta; the disgraced knight, in cahoots with monsters and villains, seeking revenge against the youths entrusted to protect the realm. He ran the very real risk of blessing those drunk, violent clowns with martyrdom. In fact, it felt inevitable.

His one consolation was that perhaps it would smooth things over with Starcrest's CEO if he’d already completed the bulk of the paperwork necessary for an insurance claim. A paltry comfort after a disastrous day—but it was something.

It took a moment for him to realize he’d yet to hear a response from the patrolwoman. He frowned. “Officer?”

A watery sniffle sounded on the other end of the phone. Alarm shot through him. “Officer Laurel?”

“I’m so sorry, sir,” she said, her voice thick with misery. “I shouldn't have gotten you involved. None of this would have happened if I'd just tried harder sorting this out on my own."

His heart dropped, exhaustion settling over him like a heavy, smothering fog. “None of this is your fault. Your captain was wrong to put you in that situation in the first place. Rest assured, I’ll be filing a complaint with your senior staff first thing–”

"Frankly, sir, I don't give a rat's arse about my captain right now," she said, drawing in a deep, shuddering breath. "They hurt you. You could have … you could have been … And it would've been all my fault.”

Ambrosius squeezed his eyes shut, guilt clawing at his chest. Of all the regrettable things to happen tonight, upsetting the patrolwoman might be the thing he regretted the most. “You did the best you could with the situation you were put in, Officer. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

She sniffled. “I'm sorry, sir. I just wisssshhhhzzzzzzztttt–”

Ambrosius flinched at the abrupt, strident static. “Hello? Officer?”

“Ssssszzzziiiiirrrrrrr–”

The line went dead. Ambrosius blinked, pulling his phone forward. The screen remained dark, however, and refused to respond to his attempts to turn it back on.

Cursing, he threw the device onto the coffee table and lowered his head, cradling his face. The patrolwoman’s melancholic words bounced around his skull, juxtaposed with the memory of the almost childlike delight in her eyes from earlier that night. It already felt like eons ago since he'd teasingly offered her an autograph—he should have known that he was setting himself up for disaster showboating like that. How would she look upon him now, if she saw him in this sorry, defeated state?

A dusty hand mirror rested on the coffee table. With a morbid curiosity, he picked it up, and, at the sight that greeted him, recoiled.

A furious, purpling bruise bled along the contour of his cheekbone and jawline, accompanying a bluish-black ring circling his now grotesquely swollen eye. Smaller bruises and cuts marred his lips and lower face from where the cadet had struck him, and the line of his nose had a slight crook to it. Broken, as he'd suspected.

The shadows beneath his eyes, a familiar sight in recent months and easily dismissed, now hollowed out his gaze with a stark, gaunt emptiness. He looked like a skeleton. A tired skeleton.

Tracing the discolored ring around his eye, Ambrosius tried to stamp down the hot, burning hopelessness constricting his chest. All the coverup in the world wasn’t going to fix this. He had no idea what he was going to do for the cabinet meeting tomorrow. He didn’t even want to think what Ballister was going to say.

Bal …

Amidst his brooding, he didn’t see the figure looming over him until it had leaned well into his personal space. When he noticed, he suppressed his urge to flinch. The shapeshifter grinned.

“You see a mirror and you just can't help yourself, can you?” she said, elbow resting on the arm of the couch. “I gotta hand it to you, though; you can really pull off a shiner.”

[quicksrlver]

pit babe final eps

with the show officially departed significantly from the books, this is speculation about its final eps, written under petekenta brainrot by someone who might have skimmed a LOT a lot due to school

we know the major plot points left are charliebabe reunion and tony taken down. but with the level of SOAP the show is working with, it seems at least one main character will probably die in the process.

novel spoilers under

i have not read the novel, but had it spoiled for me that way is the main character death by the end. to me though, kenta is the character who seems more likely to die in the show. he is in the same boat as way: under tony's control and clearly struggling against it.

however, the genre of their wrongdoing differs. kenta's death would be redemption for all that he has been complicit in as tony's right hand, whereas way's would be for the loss and harm he inflicted on babe.

because of this, way's storyline can end if he finds some closure with babe. from the ep.12 preview, babe saves way from one of tony's (?) men so it seems that babe at least does not want way to die. he is already out of tony's favor that if he were to betray tony, it would be less in an active act of defiance and more in reconciliation with x-hunter.

comparatively, i see no other resolution for kenta's character. his character revolves entirely around tony's control, and his closeness to him means that an act of betrayal would probably get him killed. and from ep.11 it's clear he will betray tony, wanting active revenge for his years of suffering and loss of his first love.

the only measure i can see it as more likely to be way is impact. while it might be hard to say who any given audience might sympathize with more, way v, kenta, only way's death would impact the characters in-show, whereas maybe only pete would care if kenta died. so if the death should be a major sacrifice with fallout, way makes more sense.

speaking of, kenta and way are also similar in their connection with pete. kenta is at his most morally conflicted when he is confronted with pete, and from the ep. 11 cliffhanger it's clear this is what will push him to turn, BUT the crux of their relationship is still framed around tony. though romantic (at least on kenta's part) their relationship is not a romance, not centered around the existence of their feelings for each other, but instead the tragedy of feeling in this moral conflict. textually, there can be no basis for their relationship after tony gets taken down. there can be, unfortunately, no happy ending for the two of them, one where happiness is defined by whatever feelings they have for each other.

[gonegrove]

Mutually Assured Satisfaction

Rating: E Ships: Mungrove (Billy Hargrove/Eddie Munson) Additional Tags:  Almost Caught, Showers, Locker Room, Hand Jobs, No Proofreading We Die Like Men            

Preview:

Billy didn’t hang out with Tommy and his crew because he genuinely enjoyed them, he hung out with them because they were convenient. He was on teams with most of them and they all knew where the parties were at first. Sometimes he didn’t mind Tommy’s bullshit. Sometimes he wanted to kill him over it.

Billy stopped in his tracks at the end of the hall as he made the turn. About 20 feet further down was about half the basketball team circling Eddie Munson like a pack of jackals. Eddie was on the list of people Billy actually gave a fuck about in this shithole town. He had the potential to be interesting. To get out of here. Be someone. He was off limits. Billy made it clear more than once that he was off fucking limits. And here they were pulling this shit behind his back like he wouldn’t find out and pull their guts out through their throats.

Read it HERE

Second fill for  @harringroveson-bingo​​ finally out because I’m still That Fucking Guy™.

Square: A3- Almost Caught